Galindor & Rohstan Do London
by Weimlady
Summary: Direct sequel to my story, The Regeneration Experiment. The Tenth Doctor, Sarah Jane, Martha, and Harry show two aliens around London. What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

**Introduction**

This story is a direct sequel (think--part two of a two part episode) to _The Regeneration Experiment_, which is also posted on this site. The best way to catch up on who Galindor & Rohstan are and why they're doing London with the Tenth Doctor, Sarah Jane Smith, Martha Jones and Harry Sullivan would be to read that story first. Here's the reader's digest version for those who opt out of that.

The Doctor took his new companion, Martha Jones, to meet Sarah Jane in the last story. They ended up on an alien world where the dominant life forms, while mostly humanoid, clearly descended from avian species as opposed to mammalian species. Adventures ensued, and by the end, our time travellers had made two special friends from the indigenous population, a scientist named Rohstan, and his sister-son, a news presenter named Galindor Flumenplock. Sarah Jane, with the Doctor's indulgent permission, invited them to visit Earth, and they eagerly accepted.

They are all now on Earth, about eight months after the events of School Reunion, although the Doctor and Martha are between the events of 42 and Human Nature in their timelines.

At the end of the last story, Sarah, in an ornery moment, had sent Galindor, a six-foot-tall, big-eyed, beaked alien with leathery, taloned hands and feet, resplendent tail feathers and a remarkable crest on his head, out of the TARDIS first to greet Harry in the classic sci-fi movie way. "Greetings, earthling! Take me to your leader!"

Curious about Sarah & Harry's relationship at this point? Read my first two stories, _Silver & Gold_ and _Saving Horse Feathers_. Quick & dirty summary: Harry was widowed a few years ago (in my Whoniverse) and is seeing Sarah Jane in a new light. SJ's not entirely sure about a thirty-year friendship becoming something else.

Any questions? Please ask! And enjoy! Oh, and the main characters of course belong to the BBC (except for G&R) and I deeply appreciate them not suing me for having fun with them.

**The story begins...**

Sarah Jane Smith stood on her tiptoes and stretched as high as her five foot four inch frame would allow, trying to put the special-occasions teapot back on the top shelf.

"Let me do that," a deep voice behind her said. Harry Sullivan took the teapot from her outstretched hand and easily placed it where it belonged. Then he leaned against the counter, one hand on each side of her, and smiled down at her when she turned to face him. "Short women should always keep a tall man around the house for just such occasions."

"Or a step stool," she said with a mischievous grin.

"Can a step stool do this?" Harry asked, leaning in and giving her a kiss. When their lips parted, he searched her eyes. "I missed you, Sarah Jane," he said softly.

"Should have come along, then, shouldn't you," she said briskly, ducking under his arm and continuing to put away the dishes. "You were invited."

Harry made a "mmm" noise that could have been interpreted as "maybe I should have" or "fat chance" or any number of variations between those two possibilities. "Well, at least I didn't miss out on meeting the aliens, since you brought them home with you."

Sarah covered her mouth with her hand, but her green eyes were laughing, remembering when Galindor Flumenplock, her flamboyant feathered and taloned alien friend, had emerged from the TARDIS to greet Harry. "Your face...."

"I'm sure it was a study," Harry said, good-naturedly, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. "How you think you're going to play tourist with the two of them without causing riots is more than I can fathom."

Sarah took a deep breath and compressed her lips, then laughed. "Well. I'll admit it seemed like a better idea on their world than it does now. But it's a bit too late to back out. And the Doctor's perception filters should help. They worked a treat at Luigi's."

"Didn't work on Luigi."

Sarah grinned, remembering. "No, but bless his heart, he took them in his stride. Gave us the usual fantastic food and perfect hospitality. Something to be said for being a long-time customer."

"And having the reputation of being a bit eccentric," Harry said.

"That never hurts," Sarah agreed with a cheeky smile. "Especially when it's true."

"You're not eccentric, Sarah Jane," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "You just have eccentric friends." She raised her eyebrows and gave him a surprised look. "Oh, not me," he hastened to add. "I'm your normal friend. I'm the one who keeps your feet on the ground. Or tries to," he muttered under his breath.

"Is that what you do?" she asked, amused.

"Mmm-hmm," he said, smiling.

She searched his face and returned the smile. "Well. As long as you let me keep my head in the clouds."

His smile faded a bit. "Don't have much choice in that, do I?" he asked ruefully.

"Not a bit," she agreed emphatically.

"Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting?" Martha Jones, barefoot and wearing a purple night shirt, came to an abrupt halt in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at Sarah and Harry with big eyes.

"Not at all," Sarah said, as Harry dropped his arms from around her. "Do you need something? Everyone alright on the TARDIS?"

Martha nodded in answer to her second question. "Galindor and Rohstan found places to perch in the arboretum, and the Doctor just said good night and disappeared as per usual."

Harry pulled out a chair and, with a lift of his eyebrows, invited Martha to sit. She smiled gratefully at him and sat. Sarah looked at her with worried eyes. "I hope he's in the zero room."

Martha nodded. "Me too."

"He did seem a bit less exuberant than usual tonight," Harry said, taking the chair next to Martha's. "Manage to get himself injured again this trip, did he?"

"Harry," Sarah admonished him. Harry just stared at her, eyebrows up, blinking innocently.

"Did he ever," Martha agreed unhappily, missing the byplay. Harry gave Sarah a grin and got a raised eyebrow in response.

"So, why aren't you perching as well?" Harry asked Martha with a smile.

She chuckled, then sobered. "Couldn't sleep. After the Doctor quizzing me over dinner about where I was now." She frowned. "I mean, where I am now." The frown deepened. "I mean, the other me. The first time through me." She sighed. "Oh, I don't know what I mean."

Sarah smiled and sat down across the table from her. "We do. Don't worry about it." She started halfway out of her chair again. "Would a cup of tea help?"

"Cup of warm milk would be better for sleep," Harry said.

"I expect the milk's gone off, unless you bought some today." Harry shook his head.

"Tea would be wonderful, but you don't need to make it. Just tell me where everything is," Martha said.

"Don't be silly," Sarah said, getting up and filling the kettle. "It's no trouble. Wouldn't mind a cup myself. Harry?"

Harry nodded, and Sarah got three mugs out of the cupboard.

"So. Where are you tonight?" Harry asked Martha, his eyes twinkling. "The other you. The then you. Or is it the now you?"

Martha shook her head. "That's just it. I'm sure I'm either studying or sleeping or going to class, because that's all I did back then." Her eyebrows drew down again. "Back now." She gave Harry a frustrated look. "Oh, that doesn't sound at all right, does it?"

He ducked his head to hide a laugh, then looked back up at her. "It sounds fine. Go on."

Sarah put their tea in front of them, and then brought her own mug to the table and sat.

"The more I thought about it, the more I started wondering if there was anything I'd forgotten. A holiday or a field trip or a day when classes were cancelled or something," Martha continued.

"And the more you thought about what might have happened, the more it seemed as if it must have happened," Sarah said.

"Exactly!" Martha nodded.

Sarah shook her head. "I wouldn't lose sleep over it, Martha. Just keep an eye peeled for yourself and go the other way if you see you coming."

Martha's eyes nearly spun in her head. "You're worse about this than I am."

Sarah grinned. "You mean better, don't you?"

They all sipped their tea in silence for a few moments. Then Martha laughed. "Galindor wasn't best pleased by the perception filter, was he?"

Sarah laughed too, and shook her head. "No. Here I'd told him everyone would stare at him on Earth, and hardly anyone did. What a disappointment!"

"He likes being stared at?" Harry asked.

"Oh. Nothing better!" Sarah confirmed. "It's a compliment on their world." She grinned at him. "Didn't you notice how he spread his tailfeathers and preened when you first saw him?"

"Mmm, no," Harry said emphatically. "Must have missed that in the general complete shock of seeing him come out of the TARDIS instead of you."

"That _was _mean, Sarah," Martha said, still laughing.

"Ah! Someone on my side at last. I knew I liked you, Doctor Jones," Harry said.

"Not doctor yet, I'm afraid, Doctor Sullivan," she said modestly.

"I thought we got rid of that Doctor Sullivan chap over dinner," he said, giving her a mock-angry glare.

"Sorry." Martha smiled. "Harry."

"That's better."

"Are you going to come along with us tomorrow?"

Harry grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." He turned to Sarah. "What's on the itinerary, Miss Tour Guide?"

Sarah wrapped her hands around her tea mug and took a thoughtful sip. "Dunno," she finally said. Her eyes lost focus and she was silent again for a long moment before coming back to the question. "S'pose we should do some of the obvious things. The Eye. The British Museum. The zoo." She sipped her tea and thought some more. "I'd like them to see some of the countryside as well, not just the city. Don't want them thinking the whole planet is concrete and glass."

"They saw the park tonight," Harry said.

"Not the same," Sarah laughed. "In fact, I wish we could show them some of the wild places of the Earth. The Canadian Rockies or the Australian outback or the Sahara."

"Maybe the Doctor can do a flyover of those places for them on the way home," Martha suggested.

Sarah gave her a warm smile. "Maybe. But the TARDIS isn't much of a cruise ship, is she?"

Martha chuckled. "Well. No. But I'm sure she could grow an observation room if the Doctor wanted her to."

"Brilliant," Sarah said admiringly. "I bet she could. We'll have to ask the Doctor."

They all sat quietly, enjoying the tea and the company, until Martha started to giggle.

"What?" Harry said, his eyes twinkling appreciatively at the young woman's amusement.

Martha waved her hand in front of her face dismissively. "Oh. Just thinking." Then she giggled again.

"Out with it," Sarah said sternly, but her eyes were laughing as well.

"Just wondering," Martha said. "If the Queen's Guards could handle keeping a straight face with Galindor and Rohstan standing in front of them."

Sarah laughed. "Now who's mean?" She shook her head reprovingly at Martha, but her grin spoiled the effect. "We'd have to have the boys take their perception filters off for a minute, wouldn't we?"

"You two," Harry said, shaking his head. He pulled off the reproving look a bit better than Sarah had, but the corners of his mouth curled up and gave him away. "Try to behave. Taking two alien visitors on a tour of London is dodgy enough without two giddy females thinking up practical jokes to play with them."

"Giddy?" Sarah repeated, eyebrows raised. "I haven't been giddy in decades. And Martha is a very serious young woman." Her look asked Martha for confirmation, and Martha obligingly gave her a very serious nod.

Harry looked from one of them to the other and made that non-committal "mmmm" noise again.

"Harry." Sarah said in response to his dubious look. "Seriously. With you and the Doctor along to keep us giddy females in check. What could possibly go wrong?"

****

The next morning, three Londoners and three aliens were almost the first to queue at the London Eye. A group of Japanese tourists, draped with enough photographic equipment to stock a camera shop, were the only ones ahead of them.

"Is the effectiveness of the perception filter at all dependent on the intent of the wearer not to be noticed?" Sarah asked the Doctor quietly, as she watched Galindor stand tall, raise his crest, and spread his tail feathers every time a camera was pointed his way.

"Absolutely," he said with a wry grin.

"I will have a word with him," Rohstan said.

"Will it do any good?" Sarah asked. She couldn't help but smile as Galindor turned his tail feathers to the camera-wielding tourists and then looked over his shoulder at them with a cocky tilt to his head, his crest flared.

"It is doubtful," Rohstan said, sounding sorrowful. "He is what he is."

"In spades," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Wouldn't have him any other way," Martha said reassuringly to Rohstan.

"Excuse me, but may we take your picture?" One of the Japanese tourists had worked up the courage to approach Galindor and speak to him politely.

"Of course!" he agreed enthusiastically, striking a new pose. Within moments, all of the tourists were taking turns having their pictures taken with him. Then they posed for a group shot with Galindor in the middle, head and shoulders taller than any of them, feathered arms encircling those nearest to him, one member of the group burdened with everyone's equipment and snapping madly away with each camera in turn. "Oh, Sarah Jane!" he called from the middle of the group. "Will you operate my camera?"

"Of course," Sarah said, stepping up to him and looking for a camera to take. He fished a small oblong device out of the pocket of his kilt and handed it to her. She peered at it, then looked up at him questioningly. "Oh. Allow me to instruct you," he said, and showed her how to aim and shoot.

"Is that a camera?" one of the tourists asked, and instantly Sarah was surrounded by the group, all wanting to see the object she was holding.

"Erm, yes. Latest technology from the United States. A prototype, isn't it, Galindor?"

"Ah. Yes. Very much so," Galindor agreed.

Sarah backed off and Galindor posed with his new friends so she could capture a few images for him. Then she handed his camera to him, and stepped back to join the others while the tourists quizzed Galindor about his prototype camera.

"When did you learn Japanese?" Harry asked her with a surprised look as she returned to stand between him and the Doctor. She shook her head and shrugged. "For that matter, when did _he _learn Japanese?" Harry continued, watching Galindor chat with the tourists and frowning.

"They weren't speaking Japanese," Martha said.

"Yes they were," the Doctor corrected her with a grin. "And Galindor was speaking his native language." He looked at Harry. "Should have come along on this last trip, Harry. The TARDIS would be translating for you, too, if you had."

Just then, the Eye operators appeared and opened the attraction for business. Since there were so few queuing this early, each party was allowed to occupy a separate capsule, much to Galindor's disappointment and everyone else's relief. As the Eye slowly circled up and around, they all took in the spectacular views of London.

"This is a remarkable device," Rohstan said appreciatively.

"It is, isn't it?" the Doctor agreed, pulling his glasses out of his breast pocket, slipping them on, and staring intently at the machinery visible to the rear of the capsule.

"You're supposed to be admiring the view, Doctor," Martha said with a smile.

"I am," he said, continuing to watch the machinery.

By the time they reached the top of the wheel, even the Doctor was looking out across London--possibly because the machinery that drove the Eye was now under foot and no longer visible.

"I always meant to do this some day," Harry commented as he looked out across London.

"You never have?" Sarah asked, surprised.

He shook his head. "Have you?"

"Well, no," Sarah admitted. She looked at Martha. "You?" Martha shook her head too, and Sarah laughed. "Typical. Your average Parisian's probably never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower, either. Only the out-of-towners do the touristy things."

"Can't get much more out of town than the Doctor," Harry said, looking at the Time Lord questioningly. "Have you been here before?"

The Doctor didn't answer right away, just gazed out at the horizon, hands in his pockets. "I've never ridden it before, if that's what you mean," he finally answered softly. "But I've been here. Underneath it."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Underneath it?"

The Doctor nodded. "Remember when the shop window dummies came to life awhile back?" Sarah, Martha and Harry exchanged glances, then nodded, while Galindor and Rohstan looked intensely curious. "The...creature that caused that was under the Eye. Used the Eye to broadcast the signals that brought the dummies to life."

"And you stopped it. Should have known," Sarah said.

He looked out the glass walls of the capsule again, his eyes dark. "Rose stopped it." He was silent for a long moment, then turned to them with a crooked smile. "That was when I first met her."

Martha's face fell at the mention of Rose, and Sarah put a gentle hand on the Time Lord's arm. "You should have said something. You didn't have to come."

He looked down at her, then shook his head. "It's okay." By this time, they had started down again, and the machinery of the Eye was visible again out what was now the back side of the capsule. The Doctor put his glasses back on and peered at the works. "It's fascinating. Really. I'm glad I came."

"What are shop window dummies?" Galindor asked.

"Plastic mannequins used to model clothing for sale," Sarah explained.

"And they are alive on your world?"

"Not ordinarily, no."

The rest of their trip around the Eye was spent explaining Autons to their visitors. They were still discussing the details of the most recent Auton invasion attempt as they exited the capsule and nearly ran into a man holding a microphone.

"Sarah Jane Smith!" he said, sounding astonished.

Sarah looked up at the sound of her name and saw that the man with the microphone was accompanied by a man with a TV camera balanced on his shoulder and aimed directly at her. The Doctor ducked his head, put an arm around Martha's shoulders and nonchalantly but quickly guided her around the cameraman and down the pavement. Harry and Rohstan took their cue from the Doctor and walked behind him and Martha to a point far enough away to distance themselves from Sarah, but close enough to keep a surreptitious eye on her. Only Galindor stayed with Sarah, transfixed by the TV camera.

"Toby!" Sarah exclaimed, pasting a bright smile of welcome on her face and hoping it would distract him from the deer-in-the-headlights glaze in her eyes. "Been a long time. You still with Planet 3?"

He nodded. "Doing a man-on-the-street human interest interview sort of thing. Tourist hot spots." He lifted his eyebrows toward the structure behind her. "And how did you enjoy your visit to the Eye today?" he asked in a plummy newsreader tone. "You know," he added in his normal voice.

Sarah smiled. "I know."

"So, what have you been up to? Since..." He abruptly closed his mouth and stared at her. She returned his gaze evenly, waiting. "Sorry. Didn't mean to..."

"It's alright," Sarah said.

"Psst. Toby." It was the cameraman, who was no longer training his sights on Sarah but on a spot above and behind her. "Aren't you going to ask about the...him?"

Toby frowned at the camera man, then at Sarah. His eyes suddenly changed focus and went wide. "Ah. Him." He turned to the cameraman. "Where did he come from?"

"Been there all along," came the answer.

"Well, I didn't see him. And he's not someone I'd easily overlook." He stared at Galindor for another long, amazed moment, then turned to Sarah Jane. "Friend of yours?"

"Yes," Sarah said without hesitation. "Galindor Flumenplock. I'd like you to meet Toby Whitman." Toby hesitantly started to offer his hand, but when Galindor just bowed, he returned the bow instead of shaking hands, all without ever taking his eyes off the alien.

"And he is...?" Toby asked Sarah, still staring at Galindor, who was basking in the attention.

"A friend of mine."

Toby looked directly at her. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Oh, you mean why the costume?" Sarah asked, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "He's an actor. In town filming. You know how long it takes to put on makeup and prosthetics like those." Toby nodded dubious agreement. "Well, they needed him for a scene first thing in the morning, but cut him loose until late afternoon when his next scenes will be shot. So, he wanted to do some sightseeing since it's his first time in London."

"Ah," Toby said, taking it all in. "So. Why is he touring London like...that?"

"Would take too long to get out of it and back into it. By the time he did all that, he'd be needed on set again. So, I told him Londoners were a very accepting lot and he could just see the sights in costume. Right?" She turned to Galindor for confirmation.

"That is correct," he said, nodding.

"He's a bit of a method actor," Sarah said to Toby in a confiding tone. "Likes to stay in character."

Toby shook his head admiringly. "Well, I'll say this for you, Sarah Jane. You do have interesting friends."

Sarah gave a quick glance down the pavement toward the rest of her friends, then looked back at Toby. "I revel in them," she agreed.

"So, what movie is he in?"

Her eyes widened at the unexpected question. "Yes. Ah. Erm. B..b..birdman of Alcatraz," she stammered.

Toby gave her an eyebrows-up look. "Birdman of Alcatraz? Hasn't that been done?"

"Ah. Yes. It's a remake. You know how they're remaking all the classics."

Toby looked Galindor up and down. "That was about real birds, though."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Yes, well, this is a science fiction version. The birdman of Alcatraz creates these...creatures from birds and...." She stopped and gave a short laugh. "Ah, but I don't dare give away too much of the plot. Steven would be upset with me."

Toby's eyes widened. "Steven? Spielberg?"

"I didn't say that," Sarah said quickly, her eyes wide.

Toby rubbed his chin. "So, Spielberg's making a sci fi version of Birdman of Alcatraz? I haven't seen any news of that. And why would they film it in London when Alcatraz is in the US?"

"They finished the Alcatraz scenes last week before they brought the production over here for the taking-over-the-world scenes." She clapped a hand over her mouth and widened her eyes again. "Oh. I shouldn't have said that. Please don't show that bit on air. You'll get me in such trouble." She turned pleading eyes on the cameraman.

Toby laughed. "OK, Tom, cut," he said, and the cameraman stopped filming.

"Thanks, Toby."

"Don't mention it," he said. He gave Galindor another appraising look. "He still going to be around Sunday? Playing tourist in full... birdman costume?"

"Probably," Sarah said. "Depending how filming goes."

"Should take him to the Notting Hill Festival. He'll blend right in there."

Sarah grinned. "Is that this weekend?" Toby nodded. "Brilliant idea! Thanks, Toby!"

He gave her a warm smile. "Good to see you again, Sarah Jane." Tom, the cameraman, wandered off, sighting on other groups of tourists coming off the Eye or queuing for their turn, and Toby's voice grew confidential. "For what it's worth, I never believed it. You're too good a journalist."

Sarah looked him in the eye, and all pretense faded from her voice. "Thanks, Toby."

"Gotta go!" he said, changing gears abruptly and heading off after his cameraman with a wave. "Look for yourselves on the six o'clock news!"


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah grabbed for Galindor and got a handful of tailfeathers as he started to follow the camera back into the crowd.

"Ooh," she squeaked, letting go quickly as he turned to look at her. "Sorry."

"Were you attempting to acquire my attention, Sarah Jane?" he asked evenly, to her great relief not seeming angry, hurt or offended.

"Yes, we need to join the others," she said, linking elbows with him and steering him down the pavement. "Our friends," she added, hitting the word with heavy irony as soon as she was sure they were all within earshot. "Who sloped off and left us to face the camera alone."

"He made me," Martha said apologetically, tipping her head toward the Doctor.

"The last thing we need is someone who knows you seeing you on television. With an alien. Or worse--you seeing yourself on television. Can you imagine what that would do to you? When you knew you weren't there?" The Doctor frowned. "Here?"

"Martha, you're forgiven," Sarah said with a smile. Then she raised her eyebrows and gave the Doctor and Harry pointed looks.

The Doctor raised one eyebrow back at her, while Harry put his hands in his pockets and looked down at his shoes.

"Has Dor caused you a difficulty, Sarah Jane?" Rohstan asked.

She immediately relaxed her shoulders and smiled. "Oh no. Not at all." She glanced at the Doctor and Harry again, but most of the fire had left her eyes. "Just would have been nice to have someone get my back."

"I was at your back, Sarah Jane," Galindor said, raising his crest.

"Yes you were," she confirmed, giving him a beaming smile. "And you earned a hug for that." She suited her actions to her words, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a squeeze.

"Oooh, alien hugging!" Galindor said, all of his plumage fluffing out with delight. "I did not know you could earn hugs."

"Of course you can," Sarah assured him as they all started walking down the pavement toward the exit. She looked up at him, taking in his bright alien eyes, his shiny black beak, and his glorious multicolored feathers as if for the first time, then shook her head and smiled. "But you don't always have to. Some you get just for being you." She wrapped an arm around his waist and he draped his across her shoulders and they continued down the pavement.

"Doctor, will the perception filter inhibit the ability of the viewers of that vidscreen program to see Dor?" Rohstan asked as they walked.

The Doctor shook his head, then frowned, quickly pulled a large white linen handkerchief out of his inside pocket, and sneezed loudly into it.

"Bless you," Martha said.

"Gesundheit," Sarah said simultaneously.

"Dusty," the Doctor commented, and blew his nose vigorously before answering Rohstan's question. "No, the camera sees what's in front of it. The perception filter only works on living organisms. The higher the cognitive functions, the better it works. Unless they're telepathic, of course."

"Sarah Jane, do you know when that vid shoot will be displayed on your home screen?" Galindor asked.

"Probably on the evening news. Maybe again later if it's a slow news night."

"Can we be certain to be at your house at the appropriate time to see it?"

She smiled up at him. "You know, there's no guarantee they'll show us." She glanced over her shoulder and saw the camera, riding high on Tom's shoulder, still weaving through the crowd of queuers. "He'll probably take at least an hour of footage back to the studio and they'll edit it down to thirty seconds. Or less."

"And you don't think the two of you will make the cut?" Harry said incredulously, rolling his eyes. Sarah just raised her eyebrows at him.

"If you want to be home at that time, we'll be home at that time," she answered Galindor. "But we have a whole day ahead of us in the middle of one of our world's great cities. What do you want to see next?"

Madame Tussauds was the answer to that question, once Sarah and Martha had explained the concept of a waxworks museum to Rohstan and Galindor. The Doctor was initially a bit reluctant. "Hope I won't have to hide behind the curtains this time," he muttered as they bought tickets and entered. "And none of the waxworks will come to life and walk off."

"Does that happen routinely?" Rohstan asked, his eyebrows raised.

The Doctor shook his head. "No. Just when a Nestene consciousness is trying to take over the planet."

"The one under the Eye?" Martha asked.

He shook his head again. "Not that time."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "They've been here more than once?"

"Oh yes," the Doctor said. "They're very persistent. You and they have a strong link in common."

"What's that?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"One word. Plastics," the Doctor said.

Martha laughed and looked at Sarah. Sarah grinned back at her, and started to sing. "And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson...."

Martha took up the tune. "...Heaven holds a place for those pray....".

"Hey hey hey!" they sang together, then dissolved in laughter. Harry chuckled and shook his head, while the three aliens exchanged baffled glances.

Handing six tickets over for a party of four apparently was enough to cancel the effects of the perception filter, Sarah found out. The guards at Madame Tussauds didn't buy her explanation of Galindor and Rohstan's appearance, once they noticed them, and weren't about to allow them admittance until the Doctor pulled out his psychic paper. When they finally were convinced that he was a rather high-up official with the Ministry of Film who was escorting foreign actors on a tour of London, they reluctantly allowed all six of the travellers to enter the museum.

The waxworks gave the earthlings excellent starting points to explain large chunks of human culture and history, with visuals--from world leaders to sports to music. Galindor had Harry take his picture playing air guitar with Sarah, Martha and Mick Jagger, and insisted his more reserved uncle pose with the Doctor, Harry and Winston Churchill for a snapshot of a very different Big Four.

When they wandered into a gallery of famous movie monsters, Rohstan's eyes widened. "Are these creatures part of your native fauna, Sarah Jane?" he asked, looking at an exhibit that featured a ravening werewolf chasing a group of terrified humans.

"Oh no," she laughed. "They're fictional. Part of our entertainment." She smiled. "Our people love to be frightened. As long as they know it's really safe."

"Hmm," the alien scientist said thoughtfully.

Galindor looked closely at the werewolf exhibit, then hurried over to his uncle, handed him his camera, and hurried back to strike a pose in front of the exhibit, lining himself up with the humans in running position, his beak open in supposed fright, arms outstretched. "I'm running from the creature, Nunks. Take my picture!"

Rohstan chuckled and obliged. "I believe you could prevail if you turn and fight him instead of running," he said, lowering the camera from his eye.

Galindor's eyes lighted up and he turned to face the werewolf, leaning toward it in a threatening pose, fluffing his crest up as far as it would go, flexing his fingers to make his talons more prominent. "Do you mean like this?"

"Excellent." Rohstan chuckled and snapped a picture.

Just then, a group of twelve-year-olds rushed into the gallery, two harried-looking middle-aged women bringing up the rear more slowly.

"Blimey! That's a new one!" A red-headed boy whipped out his camera and started taking pictures of Galindor challenging the wolf man. Galindor obligingly stayed frozen as a dozen cameras suddenly appeared out of pockets and started snapping and whirring.

"Steady on," the Doctor said quietly, sidling up behind the three humans. They all looked at him questioningly, but he just raised his eyebrows toward the tableau in front of them.

Galindor broke his pose and straightened up, and the gallery erupted in high-pitched twelve-year-old screams. Sarah spared a fraction of a second for an eye-roll at the Doctor before wading in to do damage control.

"Kids, kids, kids," she called out, trying to calm them. Harry, Martha and the Doctor did the same. "Easy. All part of the show. Nothing to be scared of."

The group of children, backed up against a wall, stared at her with big eyes. "Yeah?" one of them finally said tentatively.

"Yeah," she agreed, trying to pour as much reassurance into the one word as it would hold. "He's...modelling." She launched into her story about the new movie being made, embellishing it this time with the fact that Madame Tussaud's was so certain it would be an instant classic that they wanted to add the bird creatures to the exhibit the day the movie opened.

The kids slowly unpeeled themselves from the wall and walked around Galindor, who posed and fluffed his feathers and widened his eyes in full appreciation of their appraising stares.

"Well. You'd think some people would have more sense than to take something like that out in public where it could frighten children," huffed one of the women with the group. She still had a hand pressed to her chest and was taking deep breaths. "The management are going to hear about this."

The other woman looked closely at Harry, Martha, and the Doctor, as if memorizing their features for an anticipated police report. Then she saw Sarah and her expression changed. "Oh. Gladys. It's her."

"Hmm?" Gladys said, then followed her friend's gaze to look at Sarah. It took a second, but recognition dawned in her eyes. "Well, that explains it, doesn't it."

With identical sniffs of disdain, they gathered up their charges and headed into the next gallery.

Martha frowned at Sarah when they were gone. "What was that all about?"

Sarah's lips twisted and she gave Martha an unhappy look, then sighed and shrugged her shoulders dismissively. Harry stepped up to her side and put a comforting arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him gratefully.

"So," Rohstan said as he looked around the gallery. "This is what you are telling people we are."

"Oh, no," Sarah said, pouring her heart into the denial. "Not at all. There are friendly aliens in our movies, too. They aren't all monsters." She left the shelter of Harry's arm to walk briskly down the gallery, searching for a more positive exhibit. "Here, come look at this one."

They all joined her in front of the E.T. waxwork. Rohstan and Galindor examined it closely. "This is a movie alien?" Rohstan asked.

"Yes," Sarah confirmed. "A very well loved one."

"Doctor? Have you ever seen one of these in your travels?" Rohstan asked. It was hard to tell when he was serious and when he wasn't sometimes, without the visual cue of a mobile mouth, but Sarah thought she detected a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.

The Doctor stepped up to examine E.T. "Well. No. Not exactly. The eyes, yes. The skin, yes. The height, common. But all in one package?" He pulled out his specs, slipped them on and peered at it again, more closely. "It's a bit of a mish mash, actually. What you might get if a Comtabulan mated with a Rizork and a Plimquintan sequentially."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "They can do that?"

The Doctor gave him a surprised look, while Martha and Sarah Jane just ducked their heads and giggled.

***

SNAP!

Sarah jumped, and stared wide-eyed at Galindor, who looked back at her placidly while smacking his beak with pleasure.

"Dor!" Rohstan remonstrated with his nephew.

"What, Nunks?"

Rohstan rolled his eyes and sighed in the manner of elder family members across the universe when confronted with the thoughtlessness of the young. "It is rude to eat in front of our hosts when they have no sustenance. Offer them something."

They had emerged from Madame Tussaud's into the summer sunshine and were walking around Regent's Park, heading for the zoo, when Galindor had apparently snatched a tasty tidbit from the air. At his uncle's insistence, he looked around, but all the flying insects in the vicinity seemed to have taken a warning from their friend's fate and disappeared. He peered at the ground, bent down, and picked up a beetle in his talons. "Sarah?" he said, offering it to her.

She looked at it, hearing muffled sniggering from behind her. "Erm, thanks, but...I'm not really hungry." She pulled a deprecating face. "Watching my weight. You know. You help yourself."

"Sarah Jane, you are excessively slim already. You should ingest more insects."

"I've been telling her that for years," Harry said, managing to keep a straight face for the length of time it took him to say it. .

"Dor," Rohstan said warningly, and Galindor politely turned to offer the delicacy to Harry, Martha and the Doctor, who all equally politely declined.

"Nunks?" Galindor offered the beetle to his uncle, who examined it closely, took it from him, and popped it into his beak.

"Mmm. Interesting flavor. Thank you, Dor."

"I think our guests are hungry, Sarah," the Doctor suggested gently.

"I'm getting there myself," Harry agreed.

"And me," Martha chimed in.

Galindor turned to look at them. "But you just turned down a beetle."

Harry and Martha exchanged "oops" glances. "Ah. Yes," Harry said. "Well, I just don't seem to have a taste for beetle today. You, Martha?"

She shook her head emphatically. "No, beetle doesn't settle well with me on an empty stomach. I need a little something else first."

Sarah grinned at the byplay. "What sounds good to you two?" she asked their alien visitors.

"Mealworms!" Galindor answered enthusiastically.

"Dor, perhaps they do not have mealworms on their planet," his uncle said quietly. "I did not see any on the table in the restaurant last night, nor in Sarah Jane's home."

"They have beetles. They must have mealworms."

"Oh, we have them," Sarah assured him, scanning the businesses along the street. "Come on!" she said, spotting what she was looking for and leading them to it.

A small bell rang as they entered the pet supply shop and the rail-thin, balding man behind the counter looked up. "May I help you?" he asked with a smile.

"Do you have mealworms?" Sarah asked.

"Of course," he said.

"Are they fresh?"

"Still wiggling," he said with a smile.

"Mmm," Galindor said enthusiastically.

The man's eyes went so wide Sarah half expected his eyeballs to fall on the counter as Galindor's exclamation undid the effect of the perception filter.

"Mealworms?" Sarah reminded him.

He tore his eyes from Galindor with considerable effort as the deeply entrenched habits of years of customer service asserted themselves. "Yes. Sorry. Mealworms. How many did you want?"

"Could we sample them first?

He stared at her blankly for a long moment. "Of course," he gulped, and headed to the back of the store.

"Poor man," Martha laughed softly. The Doctor, who had been inspecting the wares for sale, glasses perched on the end of his nose, looked up at her, then at Sarah. With a small shake of his head and a wry grin, he turned back to the racks of leashes and collars, rubber bones and catnip mice.

"Here you are," the man said as he arrived back behind the counter with a large plastic tub in hand.

"Galindor?" Sarah said, inviting her friend to inspect the merchandise.

He peered into the tub. "They are remarkably small."

The man straightened his shoulders and looked his alien customer in the eye. "They're the best in town."

"They are much bigger where I come from."

"The United States," Sarah interjected hurriedly for the salesman's benefit. "You know. Everything's bigger there."

The man looked dubiously at her and at Galindor, then glanced at Harry and Martha. "And people.." He hesitated for a moment, staring at Galindor, but then continued. "...eat mealworms in America?"

"Oh yes," Sarah gushed. "The latest health food craze. High protein. No carbs. Oh, are these organic?" She indicated the worms with a look. "I forgot to ask."

"I have no idea, ma'am," the man said. "I assure you the question has not come up before."

Galindor shrugged, picked up a few worms out of the tub and popped them into his beak. "Mmmm," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Good?" Sarah asked. "Shall we take some?"

"They will make a nice snack, yes. Thank you, Sarah Jane."

"We'll take a few pounds," Sarah said. "To go."

"Our customers...rarely eat in," the man assured her.

He poured worms into a smaller plastic tub, weighed it, and placed it on the counter. He took the payment Sarah offered him, rang up the sale, and then turned back to give her her change, but stopped with his hand poised above her outstretched palm. "Sarah Jane," he said softly, scrutinizing her face.

"Yes?" she asked.

"He called you Sarah Jane." He stared at her for another long moment. "You're that Sarah Jane Smith person. From the television. Aren't you?" He looked around quickly. "What, are you doing one of those hidden camera shows now?" He breathed out a very relieved sigh. "That must be it. I'm not going mad after all. Where is it?" He dropped the change abruptly into her hand and half-ran through the store, opening cupboards, throwing merchandise off shelves.

"This might be a good time to leave," the Doctor suggested, shepherding them out the door.

The little bell tinkled as they exited.


	3. Chapter 3

As they continued up the street, Galindor offered the worms to Rohstan, who accepted a handful. He then offered them to the humans, who uniformly declined. "Doctor?" he asked, holding the tub out to the Time Lord.

"I am a mite peckish," the Doctor said, taking a handful of worms. "Thanks." He tipped back his head and tossed some of the worms into his mouth as if he were eating peanuts. Martha groaned, watching him with furrowed brows and wrinkled nose. "Thought you said you were hungry, Martha," he said, turning to look at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Not any more," she said queasily.

"You know, sometimes you are more alien than others," Sarah commented, watching him chew and swallow and then toss back another mouthful of worms.

A corner of his mouth twitched up, and he held out his hand with the remaining worms in her direction. "Sure you don't want to try them? You might like them better than the ones you had on the moon."

"You ate mealworms?" Harry asked Sarah, eyebrows raised.

"You didn't like our mealworms, Sarah Jane?" Rohstan asked before she could answer Harry with more than a look.

"She had trouble with the texture," the Doctor answered for her. "Didn't like the creamy centers." He held out the worms again. "That's why I thought she might like these. They're too small to have much of a creamy center. More just..crunchy and chewy."

Martha moaned and covered her mouth with her hand. Sarah met the Doctor's eyes, saw the playful challenge there, and reached out to take some worms from his hand. She popped them into her mouth and chewed. "You're right."

He flashed her a grin. "More?" he invited her, one eyebrow cocked.

She held up her hands, palms out, to fend off the tub that Galindor promptly offered her. "No thanks. Just wanted a taste."

"Harry? I don't recall you being a picky eater when you were on the TARDIS," the Doctor said as he held out the rest of his handful of worms to Harry.

Harry blew out a puff of breath. "Had to eat whatever was on offer back then, didn't I? Couldn't do all that running on an empty stomach."

Martha leaned back and looked at Harry as if seeing him for the first time. "You travelled with the Doctor before?"

He nodded.

"I told you that," Sarah said.

"You told me he went along on the trip when you met the Marx brothers just recently. I didn't know he travelled with you back..." She stopped abruptly.

"In the olden days?" Sarah finished for her with a grin. "Yes he did. Sorry if I didn't make that clear."

"He jumped ship after we met the Zygons, though," the Doctor said, finishing off his handful of worms and brushing his hand on his jacket.

"Did not," Harry said indignantly. "I just wanted to take the train back to London instead of the TARDIS. You were supposed to meet us there. In fact, you were supposed to get there five minutes before you left Scotland." He gave Sarah a wry smile. "Should have known you'd take a detour on the way back. Just didn't know it would be a year long detour."

"Well. You had been shot and kidnapped by aliens and held in a Zygon body print machine so one of them could masquerade as you. Couldn't blame you for wanting a break," Sarah said, commiserating with him but also glancing at Martha out of the corner of her eye. Her lips twitched as she saw Martha's eyes widen as she looked at Harry with new interest and respect.

"Here's something more to my taste than worms," Harry said, changing the subject as they came up on a restaurant with outdoor seating. "Everyone like Thai? I know Sarah does."

Harry and the Doctor pushed two tables together to make room for everyone, and they sat. A young waitress with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail quickly approached them and handed menus to the Doctor and the humans. She looked pointedly at the two chairs where Rohstan and Galindor sat quietly. "You expecting friends?" she asked.

"Yes," the Doctor said, smiling. "Could you leave two more menus? They should be here any time."

Once she had disappeared back into the restaurant, he handed the menus to Rohstan and Galindor.

"These documents are fascinating," Rohstan said, perusing the menu. "Most remarkable is the fact that your TARDIS allows us to read them. But I fear that I am unfamiliar with any of these dishes. I will have to rely on your knowledge to make a selection."

They decided to order a variety of dishes to share so that their guests could, they hoped, find at least one that they liked. When they ordered eight different items for what looked like four people, their waitress raised an eyebrow, but dutifully took down their choices and headed back into the restaurant.

Sarah had forgotten that their guests' metabolisms ran faster than humans', and was apologetic when the food arrived and they dug in hungrily, eating enough for any two people. The Doctor wasn't far behind them, and the eight generous portions of food were quickly devoured.

"Could we have more of this one?" the Doctor said, waving a bowl at the waitress when she stopped by to see if they needed anything.

"Of course, sir," she said, her eyebrows going up again.

Rohstan quietly caught the Doctor's eye, and then pointedly looked at another bowl. "Oh, and this one as well?" the Doctor said.

"For your friends?" she asked, a bit hesitantly.

"Yes, they've just phoned." Sarah jumped in to help. "They've been delayed but they'll be here any minute."

The waitress gave a little shrug of her shoulders, piled the empty bowls up and left with them, returning in short order with two more full bowls. The Doctor, Rohstan and Galindor had them empty again in a few minutes.

"More?" Sarah asked. They all shook their heads.

"Exotic alien food," Galindor said happily. "Very tasty. Thank you, Sarah Jane."

"In future, speak up if you're hungry," Sarah said. "I feel horrible that I let you go so long without feeding you."

"Your people appear not to need as much sustenance as ours," Rohstan said. "We will make allowances for the differences going forward."

"Good."

The Doctor leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers together over his stomach and sighed contentedly. A smile played over his lips as he searched Sarah's face from across the table.

"What?" she asked, a bit warily.

He raised his eyebrows and gave her his best innocent look. "Just...seeing a whole new side of you this trip, Sarah Jane."

She frowned questioningly. "Meaning?"

He laughed. . "Meaning we haven't had to run for our lives yet."

Her eyebrows went up. "You thought we'd have to?"

He plopped his feet on the table, showing off his red Converse. "I wore my running shoes."

"You always wear your running shoes," Martha said, pushing his feet off the table.

"With good reason," he said. "And I didn't change into loafers for today."

"You underestimate humans," Sarah said briskly.

"Maybe I do," he said thoughtfully, his smile making it clear that he was talking about one human in particular, the one he was looking at with great pride and affection, and not the species in general. Then his smile faded and his eyes lost focus.

"What?" Sarah asked again, but softly this time.

He opened his mouth as if to answer, then shut it and shook his head. "Just...something I told Rose," he finally said. "When we ran into you at that school." They all waited for him to continue and he shook his head again. "It was stupid. Well. Ignorant. Just...wrong, really. I know that now." Sarah raised her eyebrows expectantly, and he blew out a breath and reluctantly went on. "I told her that humans wither with age." He stopped and hung his head, lips compressed, looking up at her.

She waited a moment to see if that was all he had to say. "We do," she finally said with a short laugh, when she decided it was.

He tugged on an earlobe, then shook his head. "That's not what I'm seeing." His brown eyes scanned Sarah's face intently and his voice was soft. "You grow. You blossom."

"Some of us just become cantankerous old coots," Harry chimed in emphatically and everyone laughed, but the Doctor's eyes lingered on Sarah's face until she had to lower her gaze.

The waitress returned, saw the empty dishes, and raised her eyebrows. "Your friends...?" she asked.

"Had to eat and run," Sarah said. The waitress stared at her. "You didn't see them?" She shook her head bewilderedly, then picked up the empty bowls and carried them back into the restaurant.

When she came back with the totals for their lunch, Harry pulled out a credit card, but Sarah scowled at him until he put it back in his wallet. "My treat," she said firmly.

"I can pay for my own, Sarah," Martha said, digging in her pockets. "I still have all the money I had on me when I first met the Doctor. Haven't had any use for it since."

"Keep it," Sarah said. Martha continued to look dubious, so she went on. "My aunt died a few years ago. Left me a bit of an inheritance. Didn't put me in J K Rowling's league or anything, but I can take my friends out for lunch without feeling the pinch."

They started off up the street again, stopping at a bakery when Galindor expressed interest in trying Earth pastries. A street vendor selling ice cream caught their attention next, and when the humans explained what ice cream was, the aliens had to try it. "We have nothing like this at home!" Galindor gushed, pecking at the frozen treat. "It is delicious!"

"You'll have to introduce it on your world," the Doctor said, licking his cone.

Galindor's eyes grew huge at that suggestion, and he continued down the street deep in thought.

When they arrived at the zoo, Sarah just bought four tickets, making a mental note to send a donation for the price of the other two, and this time her alien guests managed to slip in unnoticed.

Unnoticed by the guards, at least.

"The perception filters don't work very well on children, do they?" Sarah asked the Doctor softly after the tenth wide-eyed, open-mouthed child was pulled past Galindor and Rohstan by an impatient mum or dad.

"Nope," he agreed with a grin. "Your children see too clearly." Another parent went by, dragging a gape-jawed child who was staring at the aliens.

"Our nestlings are like that also," Rohstan said, smiling with his eyes at the young human and raising his crest. The little one's eyes grew even huger and he pointed, but he was inexorably towed on by.

The Doctor turned to Rohstan, starting to respond. Instead, his eyes grew huge and horror-filled. He quickly wrapped his long arms around Galindor and Rohstan's shoulders and guided them down the path, his head lowered.

"Wha...?" Sarah wondered. Then she heard it.

"Martha!" It was a harsh voice, and when she turned to see its source, she saw a harsh-looking middle aged woman frowning deeply at Martha Jones, who looked as if she would like nothing better than to be able to sink into the ground at will.

"Mum!" she said with a pasted-on smile. "What are you doing at the zoo?"

"What am I doing at the zoo? What are you doing at the zoo! You're supposed to be in class. The whole family did not make the sacrifices we made for you to be able to go to university so you could be skipping classes and enjoying yourself at the zoo."

Harry quickly stepped up to Martha's side. "Is there a problem?" he asked in his most Naval officer I'm-in-charge-here tones.

Francine Jones looked him up and down. "Yes there is. And it appears to be getting worse by the minute."

"Mum," Martha tried to interject, but was cut off brusquely.

"So who's this then?" Francine asked, a world of innuendo drenching her words.

"Harry Sullivan," Harry said, holding out a hand to her. "And you are?"

She looked down her nose at the offered hand and glared at him.

"This is my mum," Martha said apologetically. "Francine Jones."

"Mrs. Jones. So pleased to meet you." Harry gave her his most charming smile, which did not defuse the glare at all. He put a protective arm around Martha's shoulders, and went on. "Martha is such a promising student. I was thrilled when she was chosen to do this work experience day with me."

"Work experience?" Francine said disdainfully. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

At that, Sarah stepped up and took Harry's arm in an unmistakably possessive manner. "Some problem, dear?" she asked.

"No, darling," he answered, his lips twisting a bit as he looked down at Sarah. "This is Martha's mum."

Sarah's eyes opened wide and she beamed a smile at Francine. "How wonderful to meet you! Martha is such a delightful young woman. You must be terribly proud of her."

Francine's mouth snapped shut and she stared at Sarah, who continued to smile back at her. "Fine," Francine finally said, her voice heavy with disgust. "You're skipping classes to go about with the likes of her." She turned her eyes to her daughter. "We are going to have a discussion about the company you keep when you get home tonight, young lady. A serious discussion." With that, she turned and strode away.

Martha's shoulders sagged as she watched her mother's retreating back. "I'm sorry," she said, hanging her head and not looking at Sarah or Harry.

Harry gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze, then dropped his arm to his side. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure she's a lovely person. When she isn't...."

"Tearing into total strangers?" Martha finished his sentence for him when he didn't continue, and finally turned to look at them.

"Worried about her daughter," Sarah suggested instead. "She's obviously very proud of you."

Martha opened her eyes wide. "Obviously?"

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "Well. Maybe not so obvious. But it's there if you look for it."

Harry wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulders and grinned down at her. "Thanks for stepping in and trying to protect my reputation."

She snorted a laugh at him. "Your reputation?" She shook her head and flashed him a mischievous grin. "It would do your reputation a world of good if people thought...what Martha's mother thought."

The Doctor reappeared then, centering his narrow frame carefully behind Harry and peering cautiously around his right ear and over his shoulder in the direction of Francine's retreat.

Sarah watched him for a moment. "You certainly disappeared in a hurry," she finally said.

"She knows me," he responded. "Well. Will know me. Just as soon not hurry the meeting."

"She slapped him last time she saw him," Martha elaborated.

Sarah's eyebrows lifted. "I thought it was Rose's mother who slapped you." He darted her a disgruntled look out of the corner of his eye. "Oh." She ducked her head and bit her lip to squelch a grin. "You obviously are better off travelling with women who don't have mothers."

"I'll have to update my position-for-hire advert," he responded dryly. Then he looked at Sarah with a crooked grin. "Can't always count on finding motherless stowaways hiding in the TARDIS."

Once Francine had disappeared from view with the group of school children that she was apparently helping supervise, they turned and walked the other way, catching up to Rohstan and Galindor where the Doctor had left them a dozen yards down the path.

"So, does your mother have that talk with you?" Harry asked Martha as they walked. "Or rather, did she?"

"Mmm?" Martha said, puzzled for a moment. "Oh." Her face cleared. "Could be. She was..is always having those talks with me. Or at me rather."

"Did you wonder who these people were that you weren't supposed to associate with?"

"Or why she accused you of being at the zoo when you knew you weren't?"

Martha shook her head. "Probably tuned that bit out. Just assumed she was nattering on about Jayden and Shea again. She never did like them."

They all paused to lean on the railing that surrounded an enclosure where camels and giraffes stood, their jaws working as their placid eyes took in the visitors.

"Do you have animals like these on your world?" Sarah asked her guests, who had politely refrained from commenting on the incident with Martha's mother and their abrupt and rapid trip down the path with the Doctor.

Rohstan shook his head. "No, none of the creatures I have seen are anything like the fauna of our planet."

Martha and Sarah exchanged a glance. "Wish we'd gone to a zoo while we were there," Martha said.

"My thought exactly," Sarah agreed.

"That's assuming they even have zoos," Harry commented.

"Indeed, we do have zoological gardens similar to yours. The creatures nurtured within them are quite different though."

"I wish we could show you our really big animals," Sarah said. "The elephants and hippos and such. But they moved them into larger quarters some time ago."

The Doctor suddenly stopped, bent over and sneezed a short burst of staccato sneezes. When the fit stopped, he straightened up, reached into his pocket, pulled out his handkerchief, and blew his nose.

"You allergic?" Martha asked with a worried frown.

The Doctor favored her with an eyebrows-furrowed look of scathing denial. "Me? Allergic?" he repeated with deep scorn.

"Sorry I spoke," Martha muttered, and drifted back to stand closer to Sarah and Harry.

"It's just...dusty," the Doctor said defensively.

"People can be allergic to dust," Harry commented, earning a Time Lordly scowl and a look of gratitude from Martha.

"Let's see if we can find some animals that are more familiar to you," Sarah said to Galindor and Rohstan, diplomatically short-circuiting the allergies debate by linking elbows with her guests and walking off with them. Harry and Martha exchanged smiles and bows, then also linked elbows and followed Sarah and her alien friends. The Doctor brought up the rear, stuffing his handkerchief back into his pocket.

When they reached the Blackburn Pavilion, Sarah sent Martha in to do a recce before they all entered. Once the premises had been verified to be Francine-free, they walked into a tropical paradise of birdsong.

Rohstan and Galindor's eyes grew huge as they spotted the various bird species flying free in the pavilion. And before long, it became obvious that the birds had spotted them. They fluttered up against the netting that kept them separated from zoo visitors, greater and greater numbers following along as the aliens ambled down the walkway.

"I think they recognize you," Sarah said with a smile.

"There does seem to be an affinity," Rohstan answered.

"They are beautiful," Galindor said, and for once his natural bubbling enthusiasm was tempered by awe. "Our kin, do you not think, uncle? Our kin from across the stars."

Rohstan nodded. "Clearly we have a common heritage of some sort with these creatures. I cannot imagine it otherwise. Such a cosmic coincidence is antithetical to my training. And my beliefs."

Sarah watched her guests interacting with the birds through the netting, then caught the Doctor's eye. "You have your sonic screwdriver with you?" she asked. He just raised an eyebrow. "OK, foolish question, sorry." She glanced over at the door that opened into the area where the birds were flying freely, which was marked "No Admittance--Employees Only", then looked back at the Doctor and lifted her eyebrows suggestively.

He grinned, then gave a short laugh. "Sarah..." he said, tipping his head forward and raising his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Wouldn't you like to see what they'd do if there was no netting keeping them apart?"

He took in a deep breath and looked at the birds flocking to the net opposite their alien guests. Then he looked back at Sarah and a devilish grin lighted up his face. "Rohstan. Galindor," he said softly, nodding toward the door.

The aliens came over to join the Doctor and Sarah. "Martha. Harry." Their attention caught, they joined the group. "You're on lookout. Harry, take the entrance, Martha, the exit. Waylay any zoo employees."

Harry snapped to attention and gave him an overly formal salute. "Right-o, sir. What's the plan? Taking prisoners, are we?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, and Harry relaxed with a grin and a chuckle. "Just keep them busy. Ask questions. Keep their attention off this area."

"Aye aye, sir," Harry said, and he and Martha headed off to take up their stations.

The Doctor gave a careful look around, then activated his sonic screwdriver against the door lock. He opened it with a self-satisfied smirk, and nodded Galindor and Rohstan in. They slipped through the door and he closed it behind them.

The birds knew instantly. Galindor spread his arms, palms up, and tipped his head back, and in a flurry of feathers, he was surrounded by his earthling cousins. Rohstan also was the center of a wildly colorful flock. He held out one hand, and a glorious blue Victoria Crowned Pigeon fluttered up and landed on it, spreading his wings and fanning his lacey crest in greeting.

"Look, Mum!" a youngster said, pointing to the aliens. "Bird men!"

"Roger, please," his mother responded. "It's just the birds flocking. They probably do it all the time."

"But...but..." Roger stammered to a halt, then looked over and caught Sarah's eye. She gave him a knowing grin, and he furrowed his brows. "You see them. Don't you."

"Don't talk to strangers, Roger." His mother gave Sarah a deeply suspicious look, then took his hand and tugged him along the path, away from Sarah, who could only shrug at his retreating form.


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah always felt as if she were entering a sanctuary when she crossed her own threshhold and shut her door on the outside world. That feeling washed over her especially strongly tonight as she let her friends into the house, locked the door behind her, and took a moment to lean back against it, close her eyes, and exhale deeply.

"You pulled it off. Well done." She opened her eyes and saw the Doctor standing in the doorway, smiling at her. Then he nodded toward the living room behind him. "Now get in here. The pizza's getting cold."

She laughed and stepped up to him, wrapped an arm around his slim waist and walked out of the entryway with him.

They brought kitchen chairs into the living room for the benefit of their alien guests, whose tailfeathers were not really designed for comfort in overstuffed furniture. Sarah picked up the remote, then claimed one end of the couch, her legs folded under her, while Harry sank down next to her and Martha next to him. The Doctor sat on the floor in front of Sarah, his long legs stretched out in front of him, using the couch as a backrest and within an easy arm's reach of the pizza boxes piled on the coffee table. Sarah clicked the TV on and then tuned in to Planet 3 just in time to catch the evening news.

Galindor was rivetted by the news and was astonished to see female newsreaders. "Is that what you did, Sarah Jane, when you worked for them? Were you a newsreader?"

"No," Sarah said around a bite of veggie pizza. "I was never a newsreader. Just a journalist." Harry turned, raised his eyebrows and gave her a pointed look. She tightened her lips and, with a slight shake of her head, gave him a half-warning, half-pleading look. He sighed, bent forward, helped himself to a piece of pizza, then leaned back and stretched his left arm out across the back of the sofa behind her as he took a big bite of cheese and pepperoni.

They watched images of the day's events unfold on the screen, the humans endeavoring to explain some of the more esoteric aspects of the daily happenings on planet Earth for their alien visitors, who were full of questions.

Harry laughed. "Gives you a whole new perspective on the news to watch it with aliens."

Just then, the image changed to show the London Eye, and the newsreader said, "And now, our Man on the Street, Toby Whitman. Toby visited the Eye this morning, and chatted with some of the folks who were enjoying our city's greatest tourist attraction. Toby? Who did you meet?"

Galindor leaned forward eagerly.

"Well, Bob, we saw a lot of faces, some old familiar faces, and some faces...well, you might have to see to believe."

The camera cut to Sarah Jane and Galindor, and Galindor--the real one, not the one on screen--let out a cackle of glee. "I am on alien vidscreen!" he crowed delightedly. He turned quickly to Sarah Jane. "Are you able to record this?"

"Way ahead of you," she said, brandishing the remote. "Not sure what you'll be able to watch it on, but you'll have a copy."

"We could send them back with a DVD player," Harry suggested.

"AC or DC?" Sarah asked mildly. "110 or 220?"

"Oh," Harry said, his face falling. "Well. Battery operated then."

"That'll work for awhile at least," Martha said.

"And a supply of batteries," Harry added.

"Rohstan and I can probably sort out the power issues," the Doctor said. "Or I could just have the TARDIS copy it onto something compatible with their systems."

"That's sorted, then," Harry said, sounding pleased, and helped himself to another slice of pizza.

* * *

"Good God. Some people will do anything to try to get back into the public eye."

Owen Harper was watching the London evening news in the Hub. He laughed sardonically at the image of the woman and the bird man that had flashed on the screen moments before.

"What's that?" Captain Jack Harkness stepped up to Owen's side, took a swig of coffee from his Starbucks cup, and stared at the monitor.

"Oh, this woman," Owen said dismissively.

"What about her?"

"Sarah Jane Smith." Owen curled his lip in disdain and said the name as if it should be self explanatory, but Jack just shrugged. "Sarah Jane Investigates?" Owen said, looking at Jack expectantly. Jack added a head shake to his shrug this time. "Had her own TV programme. Went undercover, did exposes." He pursed his lips and made an "ooo" noise as he widened his eyes and held his hands up in mock awe. Then he dropped the act and one corner of his mouth turned down. "Did one too many. Got her facts wrong, got shown the door, nearly put Planet 3 out of business with all the fines and "gee gosh golly we're sorry" money they had to pay out to the company Miss Sarah Jane wrongly accused of being a menace to the ecosystem."

"She does look familiar," Jack said thoughtfully, staring at the screen.

"If you watched TV at all, you couldn't have missed her. Darling of the chat shows. Intrepid girl reporter, all that bollocks."

"_Girl _reporter?" Jack repeated dryly. "How many years ago was this?"

"Not that many." Owen screwed up his face, trying to remember. "2000. 2001 maybe. And it's a figure of speech," he added.

"Mmm. Not a very accurate one then. Not that she isn't holding up well," he added appreciatively. Then his eyebrows came together in a scowl. "Who's that with her?"

"Some poor sod of an actor she shanghaied to get herself back in front of a camera, no doubt."

Jack set his coffee down on a nearby desk, then leaned in to peer at the monitor more closely. "Tosh," he called without looking up. "Are you recording this?"

"Automatically," came the reply.

"As soon as this segment's done, play it back for me, okay?"

"You got it."

Jack and Owen waited, watching the end of the Man on the Street segment, then Tosh joined them as it began to play again on their screens.

Jack let it play all the way through, then turned to his team. "What did we just see here, boys and girls?" he asked.

Owen scowled. "Told you. Has-been where-are-they-now-and-who-the-hell-cares over-the-hill former celebrity trying to kick-start her dead career back to life in a desperation move."

"Try again," Jack suggested. "Tosh? One more time."

Tosh went back to her workstation, hit a few keys, then returned to Owen's monitor to watch the video again.

"Freeze it, Tosh," Jack said, when the camera zoomed in on Galindor's face. She did, and Jack stood staring at the screen for a long moment before turning to his team with raised eyebrows. "Pop quiz. What. Is that." He looked from Owen to Tosh and back again.

Owen frowned, but didn't answer. "An actor?" Tosh said hesitantly.

"Oh Tosh Tosh Tosh," Jack sighed. "I'd expect that from John Q Public. Not a member of my team. Try again."

Tosh looked at the screen, then back at Jack. "An alien?"

"Bingo," Jack said.

Owen rolled his eyes. "An alien. On the London Eye. Letting himself be interviewed for the evening news. Jack, you've gone right round the twist."

Jack put a hand on the back of Owen's neck and pushed him, not overly gently, in the direction of the monitor. "Look. At. It," he said emphatically. "Tosh, can you zoom in on this picture?" he called over his shoulder.

"Sure. What part?"

"Start with the beak." The image zoomed in on the shiny black beak. "OK, pan up to the eyes." The image obligingly moved up and they stared into large alien eyes. "Now the feathers." A close-up image of the roots of the colorful crest appeared. Jack let go of Owen's neck, and Owen settled back into his chair, rotating his head, but staring at the monitor. "Does that look like makeup and prosthetics?" Jack asked rhetorically.

Tosh and Owen just stared at the screen.

"No." Jack answered his own question. "So the new question becomes, who is this Sarah Jane Smith who has the unbelievable balls to parade a real alien through London, telling a cock-and-bull story about him being an actor because she knows that people don't believe the evidence of their own eyes? Even people who should know better," he added, scowling at Tosh and Owen.

The freeze frame ended, and the video continued, coming back to Sarah's face. Jack narrowed his eyes at the monitor. "And why does she look so damn familiar?" he added softly. "Keep it going in a loop, Tosh."

"Right," she agreed.

Jack stood, arms folded over his chest, one knuckle absently tapping his upper lip, as the segment with Sarah Jane and the birdman played a few more times. Then his eyes widened and he straightened up. "Tosh. Do you still have that CCTV footage from a few months ago? When my Doctor Detector went off and that woman and man got caught up in the rift flare?"

"Yeah, I think I archived that."

"Oh, you're so going to get a big wet one on the lips if you did," Jack said earnestly. Tosh blushed and frantically hit keys.

The image of a cul-de-sac replaced the evening news on Owen's monitor. They watched as a slim woman with auburn hair followed a tall, lanky, dark-haired man onto the screen. The man stepped away from the woman and a flare of rift energy made him disappear from view, but the woman gave a quick glance over her shoulder as if checking to see if anyone was watching. For a moment, her face was visible to the CCTV camera.

"Freeze it!" Jack yelled, and Tosh poked at her keyboard and made it so. "Sarah Jane Smith, eh." He grinned, then laughed, his blue eyes flashing with delight. "So we've finally found you."

"You think that's her?" Owen said doubtfully.

"You don't?" his boss snapped back.

"Well. There's a resemblance, I'll give you that. But I wouldn't--what do you say? 'bet the ranch'?--on it being her."

"There's a resemblance. She's seen in Cardiff playing with rift energy when my Doctor Detector goes off, and now she's hob-nobbing with aliens in London? You bet I'll bet the ranch."

"On what?" Tosh asked, wide-eyed with confusion.

Jack opened his mouth, then shut it and took a breath before answering. "On the fact that it's worth a trip to London to find out more about this Sarah Jane Smith." He looked at the two of them. "Ianto and Susie will be back tomorrow to hold down the fort. Who's up for a road trip to the big city?"

Tosh looked at Jack and Owen hesitantly, then tentatively raised her hand. Jack chuckled and reached out, took Owen by the wrist and raised his hand for him. "Good, two volunteers."

* * *

"May we view it again, Sarah Jane?" Galindor said hopefully.

Sarah grinned and hit the remote. Their interview started over and Galindor's eyes were glued to the screen.

"So, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" Harry asked, turning to Sarah.

She took a deep thoughtful breath and sighed it out before responding. "Well. London was a bit of a challenge today."

"Wasn't so bad," Harry said encouragingly, but with an amused grin.

Sarah gave him a look, then went on. "So I was thinking about getting out of the city and showing them the countryside." Harry's eyebrows furrowed and he stared at her. The Doctor twisted around from his place on the floor to look up at her with an identical worried frown. "What?" she asked, looking from one to the other.

Harry shook his head. "If you think London was a challenge..."

Sarah frowned at him and shrugged her shoulders when he didn't continue. "What?" she asked again.

"Sarah," Harry said. "Londoners are pretty blase. They've seen it all. But people in the country, in villages..."

"What?" she asked for the third time when he again trailed off, raising her voice a bit in exasperation.

"They can be scary," Harry finally finished.

Sarah laughed. "Oh Harry. You've seen too many movies. Country people aren't all out to eat the big city folk who make the mistake of wandering into their village."

"Your people consume one another?" Rohstan asked, sounding worried.

"No, no," Sarah assured him quickly. "Just in movies. And on TV. More of that tendency we have of liking to scare ourselves."

"I don't know, Sarah," the Doctor said, also sounding worried.

"Not you too."

He sighed. "I'm sure it was just an isolated case. But one of your villages gave me a pretty rough time."

"What kind of a rough time?"

"Oh. Devil worship," he said with an unhappy wrinkle of his nose. "Well. It was actually an alien. From the planet Daemos. But they didn't know that."

Sarah met his eyes and this time, she looked worried as well. "You know. You're right. I ran into some of that myself. Not an alien," she clarified when he gave her a surprised look. "Witchcraft. Human sacrifice. Nearly lost my aunt's ward to them."

"I nearly lost Jo to them," the Doctor said. "Not to mention getting a bit frosted up myself."

"Jo?" Martha asked.

"My assistant."

"Assistant?" Martha asked in a surprised tone.

The Doctor gave her a pointed look. "Yes. Assigned to me by UNIT." His look softened and he smiled. "Thought she was the tea lady at first."

"Tea lady?" Martha asked, shifting from surprised to baffled.

Sarah grinned. "Jo, short for Josephine," she clarified.

"Oh. Figures," Martha said. "You knew her?"

"Met her briefly. At the wedding." She gave the Doctor a sidelong glance and grinned. "Just long enough to share some tips."

"About what?" the Doctor said suspiciously. Sarah gave him an eyebrows-up innocent look. "Me?" he asked, pointing at his chest. Sarah grinned and the Doctor rolled his eyes at her. "That's a conversation I'd like to have heard."

"Wouldn't you just," Sarah agreed.

"So." Harry broke into their reminiscences. "We're agreed the English countryside isn't quite ready for our friends. What's Plan B?"

Sarah looked at Rohstan and Galindor, who had been listening patiently to the conversation since the replay of the interview had ended. "Do you have anything in particular you'd like to see?" she asked them.

"We are interested in anything you wish to show us," Rohstan said. "Your world is endlessly fascinating to us." He glanced at his nephew for corroboration, and Galindor nodded his agreement. "Although, since you did pose the question, I would say that seeing the larger fauna you mentioned today at the zoological gardens would interest me greatly."

Sarah nodded. "Okay. I can check on the internet what the hours are for the large animal area."

"Why not just take them to the Serengeti?" Harry asked.

Sarah stared at him in surprise. "You think getting them on a plane and across a few international borders would be easier than taking them to an English village?"

"You have a TARDIS at your disposal," Harry said, gesturing toward the police box sitting in the corner of the living room. "And a TARDIS driver," he added, indicating the Doctor. "You could take them anywhere. Or anywhen."

The Doctor twisted his head around to look up at Sarah. "I was wondering when someone would think of that," he said with a grin.

Sarah's mouth hung open for a second as she looked down at him. "We thought of it," she said. "Didn't we, Martha?" Martha nodded. "I just didn't like to ask." She looked at him appraisingly. "Wasn't sure you were up to it," she added softly.

"Got you here, didn't I?"

"Doesn't mean you're up to flying us all over the planet."

He clicked his tongue dismissively. "I could pilot the old girl in my sleep. And have done. It's not a strain. Especially if you only want to travel in one dimension."

She gave him a long look. "You're sure?" He raised his eyebrows and pulled a "quit worrying" face. "Well then. That opens up the possibilities a bit." She got up, retrieved a notepad and pen from her desk, then stepped over the Doctor to return to her spot on the couch. "Where shall we go?"

The next half hour was spent listing all the places on the earth that the residents of the planet thought worth a visit, and explaining to their alien guests what the attraction of those places was. When they ran out of suggestions, Sarah reviewed the list. "Well. If we do these all in one day, we'll have..." She did a quick calculation in the margin of her notepad. "Ten minutes to spend at each site." She looked down at the Doctor. "That's assuming we have zero travel time."

"Can be done," the Doctor said, nodding.

"By day, you mean twenty-four hours?" Harry asked. Sarah nodded. "Might be a bit tiring, don't you think?"

Sarah laughed. "Definitely. Let's go over the list again and see if we can pare it down."

"I could always get you to the next site just ten minutes after we left the one before," the Doctor offered.

"No matter how long we stayed?" Martha asked, intrigued.

The Doctor tipped his head back and forth thoughtfully. "Within reason."

"So we'd pack well more than twenty-four hours' worth of sight-seeing into a twenty-four hour period?" Sarah asked. He nodded. She looked to her guests again. "Rohstan, how much sleep do your people need?"

"It is somewhat variable to the individual, of course," Rohstan responded. "But we generally perch for approximately a third of our day. Your rest and activity cycles were quite in synch with ours when you visited our planet."

Sarah nodded. "So. Let's cut it back to what we can reasonably see in, what, twelve, fourteen hours, real time?"

Another ten minutes and they had a workable itinerary compiled. The next question was how to spend the rest of their evening.

"What would you like to do?" Sarah asked her guests.

"How do your people generally spend time after consuming your evening meal?" Galindor asked.

Harry, Sarah and Martha threw out a number of earthly ways to spend time, from playing cards to parlor games to visiting the local pub, explaining each one until their visitors' eyes were wide with the number and variety of options.

"Please," Rohstan said. "What would be your normal mode of spending time, Sarah Jane? Let us participate in a standard evening for you."

Sarah looked at Harry. "Movie?" Harry suggested.

Sarah shrugged and nodded. "If I'm not working." She looked at Rohstan apologetically. "I lead a pretty quiet life." Harry snorted and looked pointedly around the room. "Well. Most of the time," Sarah amended with a grin.

"Could we see the vidscreen entertainment that you said we were going to appear in a new version of?" Galindor asked.

"_Birdman of Alcatraz_?" Harry asked. Galindor nodded as he recognized the title, and Harry turned to Sarah. "You have that one?"

Sarah shook her head. "We'd have to see if the rental store has it."

"You have _The Birds_?" Harry asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Harry," Sarah said in a warning tone.

Martha grinned. "How about _Bye Bye Birdie_?"

"_One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_?" Harry suggested, ignoring Sarah's warning, his eyes challenging Martha.

"_The Maltese Falcon_," she shot back.

"_To Kill a Mockingbird_," Harry countered.

Sarah shook her head, climbed up off the couch again and went over to the shelves where her DVD collection was stored. She sorted through the movies, ignoring the ever wilder suggestions being thrown around behind her. "OK," she announced, silencing her friends--except for muffled sniggering. "I have _Fly Away Home_ and _March of the Penguins_."

Harry looked at Martha and laughed. "How did we miss those two?"

"Give us time, we would have got them," Martha said. She turned to Sarah. "They're both great movies."

"And will give our friends a glimpse into another aspect of life on Earth," Sarah said. "Which will it be?" She described the content of the two movies to Galindor and Rohstan. Galindor was intrigued by the human interest story of _Fly Away Home_, but deferred to his uncle, the scientist, who clearly favored the documentary.

"Maybe we'll have time for both," Sarah said, as she inserted _March of the Penguins_ into the player. "Duck," she said to the Doctor as she carefully stepped over him to return to her place on the couch. He did, and Martha groaned. Sarah furrowed her brows for a moment, then realized what she had said. "Oh, stop," she laughed at Martha. "That one was an accident." She aimed the remote, hit play, and settled back to watch.

"Is this a real location on your planet?" Galindor asked as the snow-swept Antarctic appeared on the screen.

"Definitely," Sarah said after a momentary pause.

"Perhaps we should add it to our list for tomorrow? It appears to be remarkable."

"It is very very cold," Sarah said, emphasizing the "very"s.

"You've been there?" Martha asked, surprised.

Sarah nodded.

"With me," the Doctor said with a grin.

"The first time," Sarah agreed.

"You went back?"

She nodded. For a moment, her face grew grim and her eyes drifted out of focus. Then she smiled down at him. "It was more fun with you."

"Blimey," he said. "Must have been miserable the second time. I don't recall that trip being what anyone would call fun."

"It _was_ pretty miserable the second time," Sarah agreed softly. "I'd just as soon not go for a third try." She brought herself back to the present with a visible effort, and smiled at her guests. "But if you want to go, and the Doctor is willing to take you, don't let me hold you back. I can wait in the TARDIS."

Harry gave her an incredulous look. "Wait in the TARDIS? Good grief. That's not the Sarah Jane I know. What happened down there?"

Sarah glanced around the room. "Long story, Harry," she finally answered. "I'll tell you all about it. Some day." She gave him an apologetic smile. "Let's watch the movie now," she said, and everyone obligingly turned their attention to the screen.


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah couldn't help noticing, a few minutes into the film, when the Doctor rotated his head with a soft groan and rubbed his neck with one hand. And he was in the perfect position for her to reach down and, without thinking twice about it, start giving him the neck-and-shoulder massage that he so obviously needed. She felt him melt under her hands in that peculiarly gratifying way that she knew so well from past shoulder rubs, and she smiled. Then he stiffened, sat up very straight, and firmly placed his hands on top of hers, lifting them off his shoulders.

"Sarah," he hissed in a tone that mixed a warning with some other emotion Sarah couldn't identify.

"What?" she whispered.

"Don't," he whispered back urgently.

"Why?" Before he could answer, a thought struck her and she jerked her hands away from his. "Oh God. You're still sore. I should have known. Or at least I should have asked. I am so sorry."

"No, no, no. I'm not....well....no. That's not it."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Then why?"

He rolled his eyes, glancing around the room, and tutted softly. "Not in public."

Sarah glanced around the room as well, and her eyebrows drew down. "My living room. A few close friends. Fairly private," she whispered in his ear.

He breathed out audibly, then whispered back. "Not private enough for....that."

Things weren't getting any clearer for Sarah. "That...what?" she whispered.

He rolled his eyes again. "What you were doing," he answered softly.

"Rubbing your shoulders?"

He sighed. "Yes. Well. Yes."

She craned her neck to look down at him and show him the bafflement in her eyes. He glanced at her, then quickly looked away, a pained expression on his face.

"Oh," she whispered as a new thought occurred to her. "Is it the purring?"

He glanced over at her again, widening his eyes in agreement.

"You don't want everyone to hear you purr?"

No, he mouthed soundlessly, shaking his head emphatically.

She laughed softly. "Oh, don't be so bashful. No one will care."

He gave her a horrified look and she frowned back at him, baffled again at the force of his reaction. "What?" she asked.

He rubbed his cheek, gave her a look that bordered on desperation, and sighed deeply. Then he levered himself up off the floor, jerked his head toward the kitchen, and strode purposefully off in that direction.

Sarah got up to follow him, and Harry looked questioningly at her.

"Erm. Popcorn?" Sarah asked the group. "What's a movie without popcorn?"

"What is popcorn?" asked Galindor.

Sarah sighed a small sigh. "Martha, can you explain? I have to..." and she gave an exaggerated, wide-eyed nod toward the kitchen. She heard Martha start to describe popcorn as she turned to follow the Doctor.

He was pacing furiously up and down the small space when she got there. He paused, looked at her, his brown eyes dark with emotion, then continued pacing. She reached into the cupboard, took out the microwave popcorn popper, then took the popcorn out of the freezer and shook some into the popper.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a frown.

"Making popcorn," she said. She stuck the popper into the microwave, set the timer, and pushed start. Then she turned to face him. "What are _you _doing?"

He stared at her, then sighed deeply and threw himself into a chair. "Sarah." He paused for a long moment. She just waited. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "There's something I should have told you." He opened his eyes and looked up at her again. "A long time ago."

The first kernel of corn popped with a loud bang, and Sarah jumped. She laughed at herself, then gave him a direct look. "What?"

He sighed, then pushed himself up from the chair and started pacing again. More kernels popped and he glared at the microwave.

"What is that noise?" Galindor appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. "Harry caused the vidscreen programme to pause so I could investigate."

The Doctor flopped back down into the chair, propped his elbows on the table and rested his forehead on the heels of his hands, his long fingers entwined in his hair.

Sarah showed Galindor the microwave and he stared, enthralled, at the popcorn as it popped and grew in volume. When the popping slowed, she opened the microwave and offered Galindor a taste. She grinned at the surprise in his eyes. "Like it?" she asked.

"Very much!" he crowed.

She dumped the popcorn into a big bowl and handed it to him. "Will you take it back into the living room for me?" He bobbed his head at her as he took the bowl and turned to leave the room. She sighed, looked at the Doctor, who was still sitting hunched over with his head in his hands, and sat down opposite him. "Now. What is this...thing...you should have told me long ago?"

He raised his head and ran his fingers through his hair, looking at her with those big brown pools of...what? She still couldn't identify the emotions that were clearly distressing him. She gave him a moment, then reached across the table and took both of his hands in hers. "You can tell me," she said softly.

He sighed, gently squeezed her hands and then let go of them. "Sarah," he started. "Do you remember the first time you...rubbed my shoulders and..."

He stopped, blinking, refusing to meet her eyes. She waited expectantly for a minute, then gently finished the sentence for him. "Made you purr?" She smiled at the memory. "How could I forget?"

He closed his eyes and winced. "Well..."

"Hon, can you make some more popcorn?" Harry walked into the kitchen brandishing the empty bowl.

"It's gone already?" Sarah said in amazement.

The Doctor groaned, and his head fell forward. He propped his elbows on the table again and wrapped his arms over his head.

"It was a big hit with your new friends," Harry said. Then he noticed the Doctor's posture and frowned down at him. "Doctor? You alright?"

"Peachy," the Doctor muttered sullenly, without lifting his head.

Harry caught Sarah's eye and silently jerked his head toward the Doctor. Sarah widened her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. She took the bowl from him and then nodded toward the door. Harry took the hint and headed back to the living room. "Oh," he said, pausing at the door. "Might want to make two bowls this time. Give a call when it's ready and I'll come get it."

"Thanks, Harry," Sarah said, getting up and reloading the popcorn popper. She stuck it in the microwave, set the timer, hit start, then returned to the table. "Sorry," she said. "What were you going to say?"

He raised his head and looked mournfully at the microwave. "How long do we have?"

She followed his gaze. "Before the popcorn's ready?" she asked, puzzled.

"Before I lose you to the popcorn again."

She laughed softly. "About four minutes."

He made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a moan and let his head fall back to the table top.

Galindor appeared in the kitchen door, leading his uncle to the microwave. "Nunks, you must observe this. It is like nothing I have ever seen." They both stood in front of the microwave and watched the popcorn pop, shaking their heads in amazement.

"That is the tasty foodstuff we just consumed?" Rohstan looked at the container of unpopped popcorn that Sarah had left on the counter. "And this is the same but in its original state?" He glanced at the table and concern showed in his eyes as he noticed the Doctor's head-down position. "Doctor?"

The Doctor slowly raised his head and looked at his alien friend.

"Are you well?" Rohstan asked.

The Doctor blew out a puff of air, then nodded.

The timer dinged, and Sarah poured the popcorn into the bowl and sent it back into the living room with Galindor and Rohstan. She reloaded the popper, reset the timer, and again hit start.

"Four minutes." She held her hand up with her four fingers raised. "Four minutes and I'm all yours. You can talk about whatever you want."

He sat up, leaned back in the chair, folded his arms over his chest, sighed deeply and wrinkled his nose. "You know. Maybe it wasn't that important after all."

Sarah blinked at him in confusion. "Erm. OK. You'd know best."

He avoided her eyes for a few moments, then looked at her and shook his head. "Blimey. I should have told you," he said softly, regretfully, almost as if he were talking to himself.

Sarah stared at him, then suddenly realized the pops of the popcorn were getting dangerously far apart. She quickly pulled the popper out of the microwave before the popcorn could burn, dumped it into another big bowl, and headed out the kitchen door. She put the bowl down on the coffee table, then turned back toward the kitchen.

"Aren't you going to watch the movie?" Harry asked.

"Not sure," Sarah said. "I seem to have a Time Lord issue to work out first. I'll let you know."

When she got back to the kitchen, the Doctor hadn't moved. His lanky frame was still draped over the chair, his chin nearly on his chest, his eyes defeated.

"OK. Talk," Sarah said.

He glanced over at the door, then back at her.

"They're all watching the movie."

"Mmm," he said despondently.

"And they're well stocked with popcorn."

"Mmm," he said again, nodding this time.

Martha appeared in the doorway. "Erm." She looked from Sarah to the Doctor and back to Sarah. "Just need some water. Dry popcorn. You know." She sidled over to the refrigerator, pulled out four bottles of water, then hurried back to the living room.

"Mmm," the Doctor murmured with a "saw that coming" air.

"Fine. Attic. Let's go," Sarah said briskly.

"Attic?" the Doctor asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Sarah nodded. "Room at the top of the house." The Doctor gave her a quizzical look. "The door locks." His eyes widened with understanding. "This way." She got up, headed out the kitchen door and up the back stairs toward the attic. She paused on the first landing long enough to listen for his footsteps following her. When she heard them, she continued up the stairs.

When they arrived at the top of the stairs, Sarah opened the attic door, then stood with her back to it as the Doctor entered in front of her. Once he was in, she closed and locked the solid oak door behind them.

The Doctor was looking around the room appreciatively. "Nice space," he said.

Sarah looked too, seeing her attic with fresh eyes. "Mostly storage at the moment. But I had plans to turn it into an office. Or a library."

"Got a good start on that," the Doctor said, looking at the loaded bookshelves that lined the walls and perusing some of the titles. He came to a framed photograph and grinned with delight. "Yates! Mike Yates!" He picked it up and showed it to her.

She smiled at his enthusiasm, then dug in a box by the wall. "Haven't put them all up yet," she said, handing him some more photographs.

"Benton!" the Doctor cried happily as he took the first photo from her. "Good old Benton. And the Brigadier," he went on as Sarah handed him another photo. "How is he? Do you stay in touch?"

"I hear from him every now and then. Mostly through Harry. He's doing well."

"Good, good," the Doctor said absently, as he handed the photos back to her and continued to inspect the contents of the attic. "Nice couch."

Sarah looked at the huge brown leather couch that took up a good deal of the floor space. "Aunt Lavinia's. Couldn't fit it in anywhere downstairs, but couldn't bring myself to part with it."

The Doctor plopped down ungracefully on the couch in question and gave a couple of trial bounces. "Comfy," he said.

She smiled. "I come up here to take naps sometimes just because of that couch." She sat down next to him. "And the quiet." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the peace in the room. When she opened her eyes, she saw him watching her face. "Now. What's bothering you?"

He looked for a moment as if he were going to leap up and resume his frantic pacing, but instead he emulated her deep, calming breath and kept his eyes on her.

"Sarah." She waited. "I haven't been entirely honest with you. For a long time."

"About what?"

He took another deep breath, and stared down at his hands. She waited. He glanced at her, then away, then folded his legs up under him, yoga-style, and rested his hands on his knees. "About..." And he made a sound something like a windchime playing counterpoint to a glockenspiel.

"That didn't help," Sarah said, deadpan.

He wrinkled his nose. "Didn't translate, did it?" She shook her head. "I was afraid of that." He sighed. "Well. Just call it...shoulder-rubbing, then."

"There's a term for it in Gallifreyan?"

He nodded. "Well. Not all shoulder-rubbing is..." and he made the musical sound again. "That's why there's a special term for it."

"And the...purring?"

He nodded again. "Yeah. That's actually called..." and he made a different sound. At least, she assumed it was a different sound. Both were so alien to her ears that she had a hard time telling them apart. He searched her face and must have seen her struggling. "We might as well go on calling it purring. That's as close as you're liable to come in English."

"And...are we getting any closer to this thing you want to tell me? That you haven't told me? And think you should have?"

"No," he said, drawing the word out into a long moan. "We're just dancing around it." He looked at her again, then shook his head and looked away.

"OK," Sarah said. "Well. Since you're obviously having trouble with _what _you'd trying to tell me, let's try some of the other journalistic questions." He looked up at her in surprise. "_When _should you have told me this...thing? Whatever it is."

He took in a deep breath. "Oh. Right away. The first time you rubbed my shoulders."

Sarah nodded. "And _why _should you have told me this?"

He looked away uncomfortably. "Because...well...because shoulder-rubbing doesn't mean the same thing to Time Lords and humans."

"What does it mean to Time Lords?"

"It's a...a form of bonding. A way to make each other...feel better."

"Doesn't sound all that different from the human version."

He gave a small, frustrated groan and turned his head even further away from her. "Sarah." She leaned toward him slightly in response. He glanced up, saw, and continued. "Say I took you to a planet where...shaking hands was the local species' equivalent of human...kissing." He looked up at her expectantly.

She laughed softly. "I'd be very careful whom I shook hands with."

He nodded slightly. "And what if I knew this, but didn't tell you." He compressed his lips and looked unhappy. "Just...let you go around shaking everyone's hands as if they were human and you were in a human culture."

Sarah sat back again and looked down at his hands. "Well." She had to think it over for a minute. "That would be a pretty dirty trick on your part." He turned away from her, but not before she saw the unhappiness of his expression deepen. "Unless you had a good reason," she added hopefully. He didn't respond, so she put it in the form of a direct question. "Why wouldn't you tell me something like that?"

"Because I'm rubbish," he said gloomily. "Because I was taken by surprise by a..." He looked up at her, then away. "...a little Earth girl who did something she shouldn't even have been able to do." He took a ragged breath. "And it felt..." He made a little _guh _sound deep in his throat. "...so good." He closed his eyes and huffed out an appreciative breath. "I didn't want her to stop."

"I wouldn't have stopped, if you didn't want me to," Sarah said softly. He took another deep breath but didn't open his eyes. "So. Rubbing shoulders for Time Lords is like...kissing for humans?" she offered tentatively.

He shook his head.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Then what?"

He blew out a long breath. "It's...what Time Lords do...did...on their wedding night." Her eyes went wide. He glumly searched her surprised face, then added, "Sometimes they spent the whole honeymoon doing it."

"Oh," she said, her voice going a bit squeaky as she took that on board. She felt a blush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks and tucked her hands tightly into her armpits. "Oh," she said again, as nothing more intelligent occurred to her. She gave him a look. "You really should have told me that."

He nodded. "I know. Oh, I know." He looked at her, shame-faced, for a long minute. "Are you angry?"

She still couldn't meet his eyes, but she shook her head. "No. Not yet anyway. I'm too busy being embarrassed."

"Sarah," he said, pleadingly. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. It's all my fault."

She widened her eyes in agreement at that, but didn't say anything. Silence hung in the attic, a charged silence that felt like a force field between them. "So," she finally said. "It's something to do with Time Lord...reproduction?"

"Reproduction?" He sounded so horrified that she got over her embarrassment and stared at him. He looked as horrified as he had sounded. "Sarah. Why would you....What....How could....Where did you.... " He stammered to a halt, his mouth hanging open, his eyes round and stunned.

She frowned at him. "Well. You said....it was what Time Lords did on their wedding night." She raised her eyebrows. "What humans do on their wedding night definitely has to do with reproduction."

"Oh." His eyes cleared and he blew out a breath. "Oh. Of course it does." He bowed his head and beat on his forehead with a clenched fist "Thick, thick, thick Time Lord," he said, each "thick" accompanied by a beat to his forehead. He looked up at Sarah. "No. Sarah. No. Not at all. Nothing like that. Blimey." He shook his head. "I forgot how humans tie all bonding and pleasure to reproduction."

"Time Lords...don't?" she asked, hesitantly.

His eyebrows came down like a thunderclap. "No. Oh, no." His nose wrinkled and his lip curled in distaste.

"Sorry," Sarah said with some asperity. "Didn't mean to offend."

He groaned and looked contrite. "See. This is why I didn't tell you. I knew I would make a right pig's ear of it." He shook his head, then took a deep breath and continued in a quieter, carefully neutral tone. "Time Lords reproduced....scientifically. Not biologically."

Sarah frowned. "You mean...like...cloning?"

"Do I look like a Sontaran?" he asked sharply. Too sharply, he realized, to judge by the way his expression immediately softened.

"Just a little bit. Around the ears," Sarah said solemnly. He looked up at her quickly, and one corner of his mouth quirked up when he saw the teasing light in her eyes.

She laughed softly. It was still a bit of an embarrassed laugh, but it helped clear the air. Then he laughed too, and the tension between them dissolved.

"I guess, if you're going to have an interspecies friendship, you're going to run into these misunderstandings," she said.

"Amazing we didn't have more of them, really," he agreed.

She smiled and nodded, then sat quietly for a moment, thinking back over what he had said. "What did you mean when you said I shouldn't have been able to do...whatever it is we're talking about?"

"You're not a Time Lady," he said simply. "You shouldn't have been able to...make me respond the way you did."

"So it's not just a physical reaction?"

He shook his head. "No. It has everything to do with who's doing it. And their intent. I mean, I think the world and all of Harry, but he could rub my shoulders till the cows come home and it wouldn't mean anything more than a human shoulder rub does." He paused a moment, looking thoughtful, then continued. "Possibly less."

Sarah laughed softly at that image and relaxed a little more. Then she frowned again as more of what he had said registered. "But...intent. It certainly wasn't my intent to..."

"You wanted to make me feel better," he interrupted gently. "That was enough." He smiled at her. "And you did," he added, raising his eyebrows appreciatively.

She felt her cheeks growing warm again. "All I did was make you purr. Is that all there is to...it? Whatever it is? I mean..." She smiled shyly at him. "Nice as it is. When you do that. Doesn't seem like enough to fill up a whole honeymoon." She suddenly gave him a worried frown. "Or shouldn't I ask?"

He chuckled. "I think you've earned the right to ask," he said. His eyes went out of focus and his lips curled in a reminiscing smile. "No, there's more to it than that. The purr--as you call it--is really just the starting point."

Sarah stared at him. "Oh my God," she said, clapping her hand over her mouth as his words sank in. He looked at her, startled, and then she saw worry growing in his eyes.

"Sarah? What?"

"Oh my God," she repeated softly but with true horror in her voice. "You mean. All those times. When I got you to purr. I just...got you to...and then...I just...stopped...oh my God."

"Sarah. Stop. What's wrong?"

She looked into his worried brown eyes and wanted to sink through the floor. "There's a name for women who do that. And it isn't a polite name." She jumped up off the couch and started pacing back and forth between it and the bookshelves, arms tightly folded across her chest, head down.

He jumped off the couch after her and stopped her forward progress by blocking her way. "Sarah. Seriously. Stop. You're thinking like a human."

She looked up at him, wild-eyed. "I am a human."

"I know," he said gently. "But you're thinking like a human about a Time Lord thing. It's not the same."

"Are you saying you weren't..." She searched for the least embarrassing word. "Frustrated? All those times?"

He widened his eyes. "Erm..." Then he frowned. "Well."

"I knew it," she said abruptly, stepping around him to resume her pacing.

"No, Sarah. Not...frustrated. Not like you're thinking."

She spun around to face him. "Then what?"

He sighed and glanced around the room. "Not...physically frustrated. Not like a human. Just....well." He looked at her. "Come here, sit back down with me." He took her by the elbow and led her back to the couch. She sat stiffly on the very edge, her arms still wrapped around her. "I _was _frustrated," he said, gently. "But only because...well. Sarah. You have to understand. I thought, when I made the decision to leave Gallifrey and abandon Time Lord society, that...shoulder-rubbing...was one of the things I'd just have to do without. And after...centuries...of doing without, you just..." He laughed reluctantly. "...came at me without so much as a by-your-leave and had me purring in no time." His voice grew very soft and husky. "I was only frustrated that you weren't a Time Lady and we couldn't...you know."

She shook her head. No, she really didn't know.

He gave her a crooked smile and clarified it for her. "Take it to stage two."

"Why would I have to be a Time Lady to do that? Whatever it might be. If I could make you purr...."

He shook his head. "There's a physical component to it. Time Lords and Ladies have...sensitive spots. In their shoulders." He waved a long finger in the general direction of his back and shoulders.

She looked up at him. "You mean...like...erogenous zones?"

He pooched out his bottom lip and tipped his head to one side thoughtfully. "No, not....well. Sort of." He looked down at her sadly. "Without those, you couldn't...fully participate. It wouldn't be fair to you."

"As if what I did was fair to you," she muttered.

"Sarah." He shook his head at her.

She took a deep breath and blew it out. They both sat in silence for a long moment. Then, without looking at him, Sarah spoke.

"You really should have told me."

He nodded. "I know."

She took another deep breath before she continued. "Because if you had told me...." She looked at him, very directly, catching his eyes and holding them with the intensity of her gaze. "I'm sure I could have done it better."


	6. Chapter 6

He went still, his eyes locked on hers. Then his eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Whoa," he said, in a very small voice. "I didn't see that coming." He arched one eyebrow at her. "Erm. In the interests of avoiding further misunderstandings. Just to clarify. Are you saying you'd still be willing to...rub my shoulders...even now that you know...."

She nodded, a bit hesitantly. "I mean...if you want me to."

He breathed out a shaky breath. "Oh Sarah. If I want you to." He made an inarticulate noise deep in his throat. "You can't doubt..." He looked away, swallowed hard. "Blimey. I really didn't expect this." He looked back at her.

She laughed. "What did you think I'd say?"

He chewed on his bottom lip for a second, then laughed too. "Not sure. But I was ready to duck."

Sarah felt an attack of the nervous giggles coming on. "No pun intended, of course."

He looked baffled for a second, then realized what he'd said and laughed. "No. I really thought you might be the latest recruit into the "Slap the Doctor" club." He sobered. "And I wouldn't have blamed you."

"Well," Sarah said dismissively. "You _should _have told me. But no harm was done. Just..." She gave him an appraising look. "A lot of missed opportunities."

He made that noise in his throat again as his eyes went wide and filled with longing. Then he pushed himself up off the couch and turned away from her, fists firmly jammed in his pockets, his back alarmingly stiff and straight.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Did I say something....do something..."

"No. No, no," he said, without turning around. "It's just. Well. There's a world of difference between you doing something without knowing what you were doing and..." He turned to look at her. "The two of us....doing something....with full knowledge of what we're doing."

"I'm not sure full knowledge applies," Sarah said, and he looked puzzled. "Well. I have no idea what happens in...stage two. Or stage three. If there even is one." She looked up at him. "It wouldn't be....dangerous to a human, would it?"

He looked at her with a mixture of amusement, affection and consternation in his brown eyes, and a small laugh escaped him. "No. I wouldn't even be considering it if it were. You know that."

She nodded and tutted at her own foolishness. "Of course I do. Sorry. Just. A bit out of my depth here."

"Me too," he said softly. He looked down and sighed. "Maybe we should just...leave it alone."

Sarah let the feelings that statement engendered wash through her for a minute before she replied, keeping her tone carefully neutral. "Your choice. Of course. I wouldn't want to..." She trailed off, then looked up to see him watching her, that aching longing back in his eyes. "But I do hate the idea," she said very softly. "Of never feeling you purr again."

He gave her a stricken look and turned away, folding his arms tightly around himself, letting his head droop. "Oh, Sarah," he said softly. He took several shaky breaths before he continued, still not looking at her. "Did you ever wonder why the Time Lords exiled me on Earth?"

She frowned at the sudden change of subject, but also searched her memory. "Didn't you say it was because you got in trouble with them for....what was it? Interfering?"

He nodded. "But why Earth?"

She shrugged her shoulders, even though he wasn't looking at her. "Because you liked Earth?"

He turned to look at her, a crooked smile on his face. "Do you punish someone by giving him something he likes?"

"S'pose not," she said. "Then why?"

He stepped back to the couch and sat. "They saw it as aversion therapy."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled with that one. "Aversion to what?"

"Humans," he said simply.

She grinned at him. "Well, that didn't work, did it?"

He laughed. "Not very well, no."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Why did they want you to develop an aversion to humans?"

"Because...they thought my interest in other species was...unhealthy." Her puzzled look deepened. He levered himself up off the couch again and paced up and down in front of her as he went on. "You have to understand that my people were very..." He blew out a puff of air as he thought. "Clannish. Verging on xenophobic. They didn't understand how a Time Lord could possibly want to...befriend...an individual of another species." He stopped pacing for a minute, looked down and crooked one eyebrow at her. "They thought I was a bit bonkers, actually." He resumed his pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. "So they thought if they exiled me on Earth, with nothing but humans for company, I'd finally see you for what you were and start acting like a proper Time Lord." He stopped again and gave her a sorrowful look. "When they realized it hadn't worked, they went the other way. Called me home. Forced us apart."

Her eyebrows went up. "They called you home just to get you away from....me?"

He gave her a crooked smile. "Well. There were other reasons. But that was definitely part of it."

"But...why? Why did they care?"

"Very controlling lot," the Doctor said with a sniff. "And...well...after Harry left..."

"He says he didn't," she interrupted with a smile. "He says we left him behind."

"Well. Either way. When it was just the two of us travelling together. They were afraid I'd broken the last taboo. Or was about to."

"The last taboo?" she repeated, feeling a bit lost.

He compressed his lips and nodded. "Doing...well...the sort of thing we're talking about doing...with another species."

Sarah's eyes widened as she finally grasped what he was trying to tell her. "Oh," she breathed out softly. "Well, didn't letting me rub your shoulders violate that taboo?"

He pooched out his lips and looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. "No," he finally said, drawing out the word. "Because you didn't know what you were doing." She lifted her eyebrows at him. "Well. That's how I rationalized it, anyway. So long as I never asked you to do it," he said, with an air of justifying himself.

"That's a fine line," she said.

"Yeah. Well. I'm not made of stone, Sarah Jane."

She smiled fondly at him. "Never thought you were."

He sat down next to her again and looked deeply into her eyes. "You don't have any...qualms...about doing something like shoulder-rubbing...with an alien?"

"You stopped being alien to me a long time ago," she said softly. "You're just...you."

He gave her a warm smile. "Thank you for that," he said softly, reaching out to take her hand, then hesitating, then going ahead to clasp it in his.

"And as far as taboos go," she continued. "My generation were the taboo breakers. Our motto was, 'If it feels good, do it.'"

He smiled. "Yes it was." His eyes drifted out of focus. "I lived in a hippie commune in the United States for awhile back then." He shook his head at the memories. "Good times. Good people."

"You did?" She laughed. "Did they know you were a Time Lord?"

"I told them," he said. "Not sure if they believed me or just thought I was a harmless nutter. Didn't seem to matter. Very accepting people." He smiled. "Taught me how to play the recorder."

"They're the ones to blame for that, eh?" she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Oi," he said. "I'm not that bad." He laughed softly. "You should hear me on the bagpipes."

"Oh, thank you for sparing me that," she said.

They both laughed, then fell silent. The Doctor looked down at their hands, still clasped together, and Sarah looked at the top of his head and fought the urge to tousle his already tousled hair.

"The Time Lords are gone," she finally said, very softly. He looked up at her. "All but you. Maybe it's time to let their taboos go with them."

He narrowed his eyes. "Do I have that right?"

"Why not? No one left to judge you, at any rate," Sarah said. "Just you."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"And really. How could it be wrong to...give pleasure to someone you care about...no matter how many hearts they have?"

He sighed. "Well. There's still that. It would be so one-sided."

"Let me worry about that," she said. He didn't look convinced, so she went on. "You may not know this about humans, but a lot of us take pleasure in giving pleasure."

"Odd species," he said, but with a smile.

"But you love us," she responded, and his smile grew. "So. Come on then. Turn around." She made a circular motion with her finger.

"Why?" he asked, puzzled.

"So I can...rub your shoulders," she said.

"Oh, no," he said, and she had the sinking feeling that she'd miscalculated his feelings rather badly. "That was my first clue you had no idea what you were doing."

"Pardon?" she asked, relieved but baffled.

"I'd never had anyone approach me from behind for shoulder-rubbing purposes," he said. "Until you did it."

"So. Time Lords rub each others' shoulders from the front? How does that work?"

He gave her a last long look and she saw that he'd made his decision. "Stand up and I'll show you." She did, and he stepped close to her, reached his arms around her and put his strong hands on her shoulders. "You do the the same." She reached up and around him and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Hmm," he said. "Our heights aren't very compatible, are they." He glanced around the attic, spotted a small footstool, and pounced on it. He brought it back to where Sarah stood, placed it near her feet, stepped up on it, turned a complete circle, then stepped down. "Seems sturdy enough." He picked her up and put her on it.

"Whoa. That was a bit like old times," Sarah laughed in surprise.

"What?"

"You picking me up and putting me places."

"Did I do that?"

"Frequently."

"Well. Sometimes I had to get you out of harm's way in a hurry. Quicker to just move you."

"I'm not complaining," she said with a smile.

He stepped up to her again, and this time their eyes were on the same level. He seemed to stop breathing for a moment as his eyes again betrayed his longing. "Are you sure? Last chance."

She nodded. "Are you?"

He thought a moment, but then he nodded too. He reached around her and, gently, reverently, placed his hands on her shoulders. "Just do to me what I do to you," he said softly. She reached around him and placed her hands on his shoulders and emulated the movements of his fingers on her back. He shuddered and gasped.

"Oh God. Was that wrong?"

He took a few quick breaths before answering. "Oh no. That was just right." He looked deeply into her eyes. "It was always sort of hit and miss before. When you didn't know. But now..."

She felt his hands pressing on her shoulders again and closed her eyes to focus on the exact movements, then repeated them on him. It couldn't have been more than a minute before she heard and felt that familiar purring noise that she so loved coming from him. _This is the point where I used to stop, _she thought. But his hands were still moving on her back and so she kept on, hearing the timbre of his purr change, feeling the power of it increase. _Dear God, why did I stop?_ she wondered.

His hands fell still on her back. Then he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, one around her waist, and pulled her to him with tender strength. She gasped as she felt the power of his purr through the entire length of her body, instead of just through a hand on his chest as she used to do. He pressed his cheek to hers.

"If you were a Time Lady," he said softly, huskily, into her ear. "You'd be purring now too. And our purrs would combine. Enhance each other. Harmonize. Resonate together. Take us to an entirely new place."

Sarah was lost in his purr. She struggled to form words. "I'm sorry I can't do that for you."

He pulled his head back far enough to look in her eyes. "Oh Sarah. Don't apologize." He went back to cheek-to-cheek position to whisper in her ear. "What a gift this is. Thank you."

They stood together,sharing his purr, for a long moment before he spoke again.

"_Terza_, put your arms around my neck," he whispered softly into her ear.

She pulled her head back to search his eyes. "_Terza_?"

"Is that what you heard?"

"Mm hm," she agreed, as she put her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his again. "What did you say?"

"I called you my third heart. In Old High Gallifreyan."

"Mmm," she murmured, closing her eyes. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted to live forever undisturbed in his purr.

"Hold on tight," he said softly. "I'm taking you for a spin."

He pressed her body to his even more firmly, then lifted her off the footstool and danced her around the attic in his arms, doing a slow pirouette in three-quarter time.

"Is this stage three?" Sarah asked dreamily.

"No. This is me being happy." He chuckled deep in his chest.

"Oh God, do that again."

"What?"

"Laugh."

He did. "Why?"

"What it does to the purr..."

He pulled his head back and she opened her eyes to see his radiant smile. "Glad you're enjoying it too."

She tightened her grip on his neck, pressed her cheek to his and closed her eyes again. "It's like...listening to Paul Robeson sing. Times a thousand. Or...like being inside Paul Robeson when he's singing."

He laughed again, and she nearly melted. "You wanted to hear him in concert, didn't you?"

"Mmm. Would love to."

"Next trip." He pulled back again to look at her. "What do you say?"

"Mmm," she murmured in happy agreement.

"It's a date, then," he said.

He danced her back to the footstool and they just stood together, arms wrapped around each other, bodies pressed together, minds and hearts melding in his purr, for a time that was no time and all times.

"How long do you go on purring when it's done right?" she finally asked softly.

"Hard to say," he whispered in her ear. "Could be awhile."

Sarah heard a soft rapping noise blend with the purr. "Is that stage three?" she asked softly

"What?"

"That rapping."

"What rapping?"

The rapping came again, louder this time. "Sarah?" It was Harry's voice. "Are you in there?"

Sarah drew her head back from the Doctor's, blinked her eyes and worked at pulling herself back to herself. "Yes," she called.

"You okay?"

"Fine." _Well beyond fine_, she thought. _Light years beyond._

"The movie ended. We're going to watch _Fly Away Home_ now. You coming down?"

She was coming down, but not in the way he meant. Coming down from the exquisite high of living in the Doctor's purr, back to the real world.

"Erm. Soon."

"OK." There was a moment of silence from the other side of the door. "Is the Doctor in there?"

Sarah smiled at the Doctor, who raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a dopey, happy grin. "Yes."

"What's that noise?"

Sarah covered her mouth and laughed silently. The Doctor rolled his eyes. "What noise?" she called back.

"Sort of a...humming noise."

"Oh," she said. "That's the AC. I need to have it looked at."

"Oh," he said. "Well. Be sure to turn it off when you come downstairs. You wouldn't want to leave it on sounding like that."

The Doctor pulled a face and Sarah laughed soundlessly again. "OK. Will do," she finally called.

She heard footsteps going down the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief which quickly turned into a sigh of regret. "I suppose I have to go down."

There was still hunger in his eyes, but it wasn't the aching hunger it had been. "I suppose so," he agreed resignedly, not loosening his hold on her. "Hell of a time to have house guests."

"If it weren't for the house guests, we wouldn't be up here doing this," Sarah pointed out, her arms still wrapped tightly around him.

"Good point," he agreed with a grin. "Hooray for the house guests."

She reluctantly loosened her hold on him and stepped off the footstool. She placed a hand on his chest, her fingers splayed, the way she used to do when he purred, when she had no idea of the true wonders of that purr. "I don't suppose you'll be coming downstairs...like this," she said with a grin.

He shook his head emphatically.

"Well. Lock the door behind me. And...I'll tell Harry you're trying to fix the air conditioner." He laughed. "Trying to get it to stop making that humming noise."

"And as soon as it stops, I'll be down," he said with a crooked grin. Then his face grew serious and he reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Without you, it probably won't take long."

She closed her eyes, leaned into his hand and placed hers over his. "We _can _do this again, can't we?" she asked.

"Oh yes," he agreed in a throaty growl, and the sound of his purr grew stronger. She raised her eyebrows. He blew out a breath. "Don't say anything else along those lines if you want me downstairs any time soon," he warned her.

"OK," she said, grinning. She smoothed her blouse and finger-combed her hair, then, with a wrench that felt as if she were leaving part of herself behind, walked away from him to the attic door. She unlocked the door, turned to give him a last warm smile, then slipped out the door quickly. She closed it and leaned her back against it as she heard his footsteps on the other side, then heard him turn the lock. She pushed herself off the door, stood on the landing for a moment, then blew out a puff of air and started down the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Sarah Jane's backstory in this story is courtesy the Big Finish audio adventures simply titled _Sarah Jane Smith_. Hilda Winters was the baddie in _Robot_, the Fourth Doctor's first adventure.

* * *

Sarah sank into her place on the couch next to Harry and looked around her familiar living room as if she were seeing it for the first time. She felt as if a part of her--the best part of her--was still up in the attic, and this woman sitting on the couch was just a projection of who she really was--3D, solid, yet somehow, not her. Not all of her, anyway.

"Want me to start it over?" Harry brandished the remote.

She looked at him for a moment, consciously bringing herself back to herself, then shook her head. "No. I've seen it before."

He scrutinized her face. "You alright?"

She nodded. "Fine. Why?"

"You look a bit dazed."

She blew out a small puff of air and tried to compose her face into more normal lines. "Been a long day."

"That it has," Harry agreed, turning to the TV and watching Jeff Daniels and Anna Paquin for a moment. Then he turned back to Sarah with a grin. "Did you get that Time Lord issue sorted?"

She smiled. "I think so."

"Where is he?" asked Martha.

"Still up in the attic. Trying to stop a hum."

Martha gave her a puzzled look.

"The air conditioner," Harry clarified for her. "It was making a strange noise."

"Oh," Martha said. "Well. No wonder. Give him a choice between tinkering with machinery and watching a movie and you know what he'll pick."

Sarah just smiled her agreement.

"Are you sure it was wise to turn him loose on the AC?" Harry asked.

"Why?"

"Next time you go up, you'll probably have icicles hanging from the ceiling."

Martha laughed. "Or the AC will fly around the house after you."

"That could come in handy on hot days," Sarah said with a smile.

Harry looked suddenly thoughtful. "I didn't know you had an air conditioner up there."

Sarah's eyebrows rose. "Oh. Well. It's new."

Harry frowned. "New? And sounding like that? You should take it back."

"Ah. Well. New to me, is what I meant," Sarah said. "It's actually quite old."

Harry's frown deepened. "Now why would you buy an old unit like that? Could be dangerous. To the environment, if not to you."

"It's in great shape for its age," Sarah assured him. "In fact, you'd never believe how old it was to look at it." She smiled a private smile. "Works a treat, too," she added. "Just...hums. Occasionally."

They settled in to watch the movie, answering questions their guests raised about things they saw on the screen. By the time the end credits rolled, the Doctor still hadn't come downstairs.

Galindor and Rohstan stood and stretched. "We have a full itinerary for tomorrow. We should perch soon. Do you believe the Doctor would find it inconsiderate if we did not wait for him?"

"I'm sure he'll understand," Sarah said. "You go ahead. Do you need anything?"

"Thank you, Sarah Jane. I believe we are in possession of everything we require. We will retire now."

"Not without a good-night hug," Martha said, stepping up to Galindor with her arms outstretched in invitation.

"A hug can also be an evening farewell?" Galindor said, accepting her invitation and giving and receiving a warm hug. "How delightful! You should attempt this custom, Nunks."

Rohstan eyed the two of them. "Perhaps another time," he said diplomatically. He waved a taloned hand at everyone and disappeared into the TARDIS, followed closely by his nephew.

"How about you, old girl?" Harry asked Martha. "You going to perch?"

"I think I'll wait up a bit longer for the Doctor," she said. "If you don't mind."

"Course not," Sarah said. "_Mi casa es su casa_." She picked up the empty popcorn bowls and headed for the kitchen. Harry and Martha followed her, each carrying a kitchen chair. They replaced the chairs around the table and sat while Sarah dumped the unpopped kernels in the bin and rinsed out the bowls. "Should I put the kettle on?" she asked.

"Thought you'd never ask," Harry said.

Sarah soon had three mugs of tea steaming in front of them, and they all sat quietly sipping, wrapped in their own thoughts.

Martha was the first to hesitantly break the silence. "Sarah," she said, then stopped.

"Yes?" Sarah asked.

"About my mum today. At the zoo. I am so sorry..."

"Martha, please," Sarah interrupted. "Don't apologize."

"Not your fault," Harry jumped in. "We understand."

Martha ducked her head and nodded gratefully, not looking at them. "What she said though...about you, Sarah..." She looked up at Sarah. "If this is none of my business, just say so."

Sarah chuckled. "Go on a bit more and I'll let you know. As soon as I do."

Martha nodded again. "Well. When she was so mean to you. I thought it was odd. Because, why would she be that way with a total stranger? And then, later, I remembered. We did have that talk."

"The one about...the company you keep?" Sarah asked.

Martha nodded. "And she told me who you were."

Sarah smiled crookedly. "I take it you weren't a fan."

"Mum was. A huge fan. Wanted us all to go into journalism. To be just like 'that Sarah Jane on TV'." Martha mocked her mother's intonation perfectly.

"No wonder you weren't a fan," Sarah said.

Martha laughed. "Well, that was part of it. I was at the age where, if Mum liked something, I couldn't." She paused, then looked into Sarah's eyes. "What really happened? Because...now that I know you. I know it couldn't have been the way Mum said."

Sarah took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then straightened her shoulders and looked at Martha. "I was set up. And I fell for it."

"Sarah. You were..."

She cut him off. "Harry. You know it's true."

"You were set up by experts."

She gave him a direct look. "And I was supposed to be the hot-shot investigative journalist. I should have seen through it, dug deeper, not let myself be taken in."

"Sarah," he said with deep exasperation.

"Erm. I take it you two have had this conversation before," Martha said in a small voice.

"Once or twice," Sarah confirmed with heavy irony.

"These people were professionals, out for revenge," Harry said, directing his words to Martha. "They knew exactly what they were about. No one would have seen through it." He turned to Sarah. "And I wish you'd stop kicking yourself over it."

"Then what would I do for exercise?" Sarah asked with a rueful grin. He snorted. "Harry. Honestly. I'm not kicking myself over it. Just stating a fact."

She suddenly felt another presence in the room, and looked up to see the Doctor slouching in the doorway, arms folded, shoulder leaning against the door frame, eyebrows lowered and eyes stormy.

Martha followed Sarah's gaze and her face broke into a happy grin when she saw the Time Lord. "Hullo. How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to want to knock some heads together," he said grimly.

"Join the queue," Harry muttered.

The Doctor looked at Sarah with a mixture of hurt and anger and frustration and tenderness that wrung her heart. "Why didn't you tell me about this?" he asked softly.

She shook her head and gave a small shrug of her shoulders. "It never came up." His eyes stayed fixed on her face, and his lips tightened. "It's ancient history. There are no heads to knock together." Her shoulders sagged under his gaze. "It was a bad time," she admitted softly. "But I weathered it. I'm still here." She looked up at him, and knew he understood what she was trying to tell him. They had both weathered their various storms. And they were both still standing. She saw him relax slightly as he took in a breath and sighed it out.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here. When you needed me."

"Me too," she said softly, but with a smile. Then she straightened her shoulders again. "You're here now. That's all that matters."

"Well. At least Harry was here for you."

"Erm. Actually. I wasn't," Harry said, with deep regret.

"What?" The Doctor's eyes went wide and dark again. "Where were you?"

Harry hung his head. "I was on assignment. Long term. Deep undercover. Didn't even hear about what happened to Sarah Jane until I got back." He looked up at Sarah and shook his head ruefully. "And couldn't find her."

"Couldn't find her?" Martha echoed, puzzled.

"I went undercover a bit myself," Sarah said, dismissively. "Moved around a lot. Used different names. I was trying to find out who had set me up."

"And trying to stay out of their sights," Harry added, earning a dark look from Sarah this time.

The Doctor straightened. "They were still after you?"

Sarah sighed. She really didn't want to dig all this up, especially not now, but didn't seem to have much choice. "Yes," she answered shortly. "But I won. They're dead. I'm alive. Can we let it go? Please?"

"Hilda Winters is dead?" Harry asked, surprised.

Sarah closed her eyes and winced. "Yes. She died in prison a few years ago."

"Hilda Winters?" the Doctor echoed pensively. Sarah winced again, then gave Harry an "oh, I wish you hadn't said that" look. "Why is that name familiar?"

"Think tank," Harry answered, ignoring Sarah's look. "Tried to blow up the world in the name of ecology. Remember?"

"That sounds a bit twisted," Martha commented.

"It was. She was. And her whole little band of SRS nutters."

The Doctor's silence was so intense it drew all eyes to him. Sarah quickly looked away when she saw the gathering storm in his eyes.

"These people. Wanted revenge. For something I did. And they went after you instead." He spoke haltingly, as if he didn't quite have enough breath to sustain a whole sentence.

"No. For something I did," Sarah said emphatically. "I did play a part in stopping them, if you recall."

"But," he said, shaking his head helplessly. "If it weren't for me. You never would have been involved."

"Don't you dare," Sarah said softly. She got up and went to him, grasping his upper arms firmly and looking him in the eye. "Don't you even dare take on more guilt because of me. I won't have it. Do you hear me?" He looked away, swallowed hard, and nodded. "Everything I did with you. I did as a volunteer. You know that." He nodded again, reluctantly. "Good." She eased her grip on his arms and smoothed his sleeves where her hands had rumpled them. "Now. We've got a big day tomorrow. And we had a big day today." She gave him a small knowing smile and after a second, his face relaxed into a smile as well. "Let's all get some rest. And Martha," she said, turning and catching Martha by surprise as she opened her mouth to say something. "If you're about to apologize for bringing it up--don't."

"Yes, ma'am," Martha said sheepishly.

"Good," Sarah said.

* * *

"Ahem."

Captain Jack Harkness leaned on the reception desk at the Planet 3 studio's main office early the next morning and cleared his throat pointedly. The receptionist looked up from her keyboard. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open, giving her the look of a stunned carp. Jack's grin ratcheted up to dazzling at her reaction, and she nearly fell out of her chair.

"We're here to see your man on the street interviewer," he said before she could lose consciousness entirely.

"Wh..wh..which one?" she stammered.

"How many do you have?" Owen asked. She glanced over at him and blinked as if he and Tosh had just appeared out of the ether.

"Erm. There's Tom Baldwin. And Sally Fortescu does it sometimes. And Toby Whitman. And..."

"Who was it in front of the London Eye yesterday?"

She turned to her computer, clicked a few keys, peered at the monitor, and said, "That would be Toby."

"Good. We have an appointment with him."

"You do?" She clicked some more keys, peered at the monitor's response. "I don't see one. I'm not even sure he's in."

Jack flashed that dazzling smile at her again, but this time, it had an edge. "We're Torchwood. He's in."

* * * *

"Mr. Whitman? Captain Jack Harkness," Jack said, sticking out a hand toward the newsman. Owen and Tosh stood behind him.

"Oh. Are you?" Toby said, looking at the hand in surprise, then taking it and shaking it. "Fans, are you? What would you like me to sign? Never too busy for a fan." He looked expectantly at the three of them.

"Erm. No. We're here to ask you about the interview you did yesterday morning in front of the Eye," Jack clarified.

Toby laughed. "Oh, did well more than one. Talked to dozens of people."

"We're only interested in the one you did with Sarah Jane Smith."

"Ah." Toby's eyes grew wary. "And why is that?"

"Does it matter?" Owen asked.

"It could do," Toby said. "She's a friend."

"We don't mean her any harm. We just want to talk to her about the...actor she had with her," Tosh chimed in.

Toby laughed again. "Wasn't that a hoot and a half? Can you imagine walking around London all day in makeup like that? Actors must be extreme extroverts."

"Unlike news readers," Owen muttered.

"Can we see the footage you shot of them? All of it, not just what made it into the news?" Jack asked.

"Erm, well, let me see." He scratched his head for a moment, then called out to a young woman seated at a monitor. "Tina, can you call up the man on the street interviews from yesterday? The raw footage."

She nodded. "Be a minute."

Toby showed them to the canteen and treated them all to coffees, and by the time they returned to the studio, the footage was queued up and ready to go. They gathered around and watched it closely.

"Stop. Who's that?" Jack pointed to the image on the screen, but what he indicated had already gone by. "Can you run it back and play it again? In slow-mo?" Toby nodded at Tina, who did as Jack asked. "Freeze it," Jack said in a commanding voice, partway through the playback, and Tina jumped to comply.

"That man," he said, pointing at the blurry image of a man with wild hair and a long brown coat that appeared on the screen. He looked up at Owen and Tosh. "Look familiar?"

They peered at the screen. "Can I see it in motion again?" Owen asked. The film rewound, played forward. "Well. He certainly ducked his head and took off out of frame as soon as the camera was pointed his way. But no, I can't say I recognize him."

"Tosh?" She shook her head. "The guy from the rift flare incident?" Jack suggested.

Owen shook his head. "Jack, you're pushing it. There's not enough there to be able to tell for sure."

"Mmm," Jack murmured noncommittally. "One more thing to ask Miss Sarah Jane about." He turned to Toby. "Do you have her address?"

"I'm sure they have it in the personnel files, but of course we couldn't give that out without Sarah's permission."

"You said you were a friend. Don't you know where she lives?" Owen asked.

Toby frowned slightly. "I know where she used to live. Not sure she's still there."

"Why wouldn't she be?" Jack asked.

"Well. She had some...trouble a few years back. Locked her house up, put everything in storage and disappeared. Her aunt died around that time, too. Only family she had. She may have spent some time sorting out the estate, living in her aunt's home."

"Tosh?" Jack asked, his eyebrows raised. Tosh nodded confidently. "Good." He turned to Toby with a smile. "Thanks, Mr. Whitman. Appreciate your cooperation."

"Happy to be of help," Toby said, sounding a bit puzzled. "Oh," he called as the Torchwood team started toward the door. They turned and waited. "If you can't find her at home, you might try the Notting Hill Festival."

"Why's that?" Jack asked.

"Because after the camera was off, we talked about it. I said it would be a good place for her actor friend to blend in, if he was still having to parade about in his makeup and costume."

"Thanks," Jack said, with a jaunty salute.

* * *

An hour later, the Torchwood team sat in their SUV parked opposite 13 Bannerman Road. Tosh was scanning the various monitors and screens in the vehicle intently.

"Anything?" Jack asked.

"Not that I can pick up," Tosh said.

"Then we go in," Jack said.

As they got out of the car, Owen frowned, listening. "What's that?"

Jack frowned too and listened hard. "What's what? I don't hear anything."

Owen shook his head in frustration. "It's stopped."

"What was it?" Tosh asked.

"Weird noise," Owen said, wrinkling his nose.

"Like what?"

"Not like anything. Weird. Sort of a...wheezing mixed with a groaning."

"Some pensioner who just turned the corner," Jack said dismissively. "Come on."

They approached Sarah Jane's house in a straightforward manner, and knocked on the door.

"Car's here," Tosh commented, eyeing Sarah's Prius.

Jack nodded, and knocked again. After waiting a reasonable time, he nodded to Owen, who quietly sidled into the shrubbery to check the windows. In a minute, Owen had the window open an inch and nodded to the other two, who joined him.

"Good lock, but I'm better," he said with a cheeky grin. He started to open the window further when a loud barking started up inside the house. "She has a dog," he said unhappily.

"A big dog," Tosh agreed.

"Does she?" Jack asked, peering in the window. "I don't see a dog."

"Step through that window and you might. Right suddenly."

Jack shook his head. "Listen to it." Owen and Tosh complied.

"Still sounds big to me," Tosh said.

"Is it live or is it Memorex?" Jack asked, baffling his companions. "I think it's a recording."

"Fine," said Owen. "You go first."

Jack threw him a glance, then pushed the window higher, gave a small jump to get up on the sill, and hoisted himself through. "All clear," he said softly, and the others quickly joined him in Sarah Jane's living room.

Just then, the source of the barking wheeled into the room. A small metallic dog, its mini-radar-dish ears swivelling wildly, its wire-whip tail lashing madly back and forth, confronted them.

"Whoa," Jack said, then laughed. "Cute."

Tosh was scanning K-9 with her hand-held device. "Alien tech."

"No kidding," Jack said in a low voice. "Here doggie. Nice doggie." He crouched down and held out a hand.

"My name is not doggie," said the robot in a metallic voice. "My name is K-9 Mark IV."

"K-9 Mark IV," Jack repeated, slowly standing up. "Good name. Was that you barking?"

"Affirmative," K-9 replied. "The purpose was to frighten intruders. You are intruders. Were you frightened?"

Owen looked at Tosh and Tosh looked at Owen. "I was frightened," Owen said. "You?"

"Definitely frightened," Tosh said.

"But you are still here. Therefore I must escalate to Level Two." A nozzle emerged from the spot where a nose would be on a real dog. A nozzle that started looking a lot like the barrel of a gun after a second. "You are intruders. You must leave. You do not belong in the Mistress's home."

"Who is the Mistress?" Jack asked.

"Sarah Jane Smith," K-9 answered automatically.

"And where did she get you?"

"The Doctor-Master created me as a gift for the Mistress."

Jack's eyes lit up. "The Doctor?"

"The Doctor-Master," K-9 repeated.

"Fine, then who exactly is the Doctor-Master?" Jack asked.

"He is a Time Lord," K-9 answered obligingly. "He is the last of the Time Lords."

That answer knocked the wind out of Jack for a second. "Is he here?" he asked quickly, hopefully, once he recovered.

"Negative," K-9 responded.

"Jack. You're talking to a computer," Tosh said.

"I figured that out," Jack snapped.

"Well, obviously this Doctor of yours isn't here," she said, pointing to the floor.

"Oh," Jack said, catching her drift. "K-9, is the Doctor on Earth?"

"Affirmative," K-9 responded.

The wind went out of Jack for a second time. "Damn. I knew I should have brought my Doctor Detector."

"You are intruders. You must exit the Mistress's house." K-9 repeated, when no one asked him a question for a second. "This is your last warning." He swivelled around to face Jack.

Jack's eyebrows shot up and he held out both hands, palms toward K-9. "Now just hold on a minute, doggie."

"My name is not doggie," K-9 said, as a red beam of light shot from his nozzle and hit Jack in a very sensitive location.

Jack doubled over and gasped, clutching himself tightly. Owen and Tosh hurried to his side. "Jack. Are you alright?" Tosh asked.

"Do I look alright?" Jack gritted between clenched teeth. "Damn. He was obviously programmed by a woman."

"Oh, don't be silly," Owen said. "It's just a coincidence. His height. Your height. He isn't..." He abruptly stopped speaking as he saw K-9 swivel toward him and adjust the angle of his nozzle. Owen quickly turned sideways to the robot dog, clamping his legs together tightly. "On the other hand, you may have a point," he said. "How bad is it?"

"Bad enough I don't particularly want to try for Level 3," Jack said, starting to sound a bit more like himself.

"You are intruders. You must..."

"Yeah yeah, heard it before," Jack said. The red light beam flashed again, and Owen jumped and yelped, rubbing his left buttock.

"Damn," he said. He glared at K-9. "Bad dog."

"You are..."

"Alright, alright, we're leaving."

Tosh was the first one out the window, with Owen close behind. Jack paused before he climbed through and took a last look at K-9. He decided to hazard a few more questions. "K-9, is the Doctor coming back here?"

"Unknown," K-9 replied.

Jack sighed with frustration. "Well, if he does, can you give him a message for me?"

"Affirmative."

"Tell him I'm looking for him. Tell him it's J..."

"You are an intruder. You must leave." K-9 interrupted, his defense mode overriding his question-answering mode. A red beam shot out of his nozzle and Jack jumped for the window. Quick as he was, he was no match for a laser, and he landed in the shrubbery rubbing his bum and grimacing.

"Hell of a guard dog," Owen said ruefully.

Jack got up, wordlessly dusted himself down and limped off toward the SUV, not sure which hurt the most--the parts K-9 had first zapped, his bum, or his dignity. It was a toss-up, he decided. But it would be well worth it if it meant he could finally find the Doctor.


	8. Chapter 8

Owen arrived at the SUV first. He opened the tailgate and pulled out the big guns.

Jack scowled. "What do you think you're going to do with those?"

"Go back in there and blast that miserable little mutt."

"No, you're not."

Owen stopped what he was doing and looked up at Jack. "Why not?"

"Two reasons," Jack answered grimly. "First, if the Doctor built him, he's probably too well shielded for us to do him any harm. Second, if he gave him to this Smith woman, she's obviously a friend. And I'm not in the business of pissing off the Doctor's friends."

Owen crossed his arms over his chest. "What happened to 'this woman is parading aliens through London, we need to stop her, she could be a threat'?"

Jack looked unhappy, but didn't answer.

"Jack," Tosh said. "Just because she's a friend of your Doctor--if she is--doesn't mean she couldn't be part of an alien conspiracy. Does it?"

Jack sighed and raised an eyebrow thoughtfully at her. "I have a hard time picturing that."

Tosh nodded reasonably. "OK, then, maybe they have her under some kind of mind control. Or maybe they're holding someone hostage. Maybe even your Doctor, if he's that good a friend. Forcing her to help them."

Owen snorted. "Evil aliens forcing the poor woman to take them for a ride on the London Eye."

"What better way to get a bird's-eye view of the city?" Tosh answered defensively. She looked at Jack. "What are you smirking about?"

"Bird's eye view," he said with a small snort of laughter. "Appropriate."

Tosh ignored the wordplay "Well, if they wanted to do an aerial recce of the city, it would certainly be an easier way than trying to hire a helicopter."

Jack nodded, his smirk fading. "True. We'd better not assume anything. Just get hold of the Smith woman and the alien, take them somewhere we can have a nice, quiet, uninterrupted chat, and then see what's up." He looked from Owen to Tosh, then pointedly back to Owen. "But I want her handled with kid gloves. Got it? Don't even smudge her makeup."

"Don't worry about me. I'm not about beating up on middle-aged ladies," Owen said with a curl of his lip. "Tosh? You be sure and hold yourself back."

Tosh blinked at him in confusion for a second, then frowned unhappily.

Owen packed the guns back in the SUV, then turned and leaned against the car, arms folded across his chest. "So now what? Stakeout?"

Jack nodded slowly. "Unless someone has a better suggestion."

* * *

"I have a better suggestion," Owen said.

"Another one?" Jack's tone was not amused. The sun had travelled on its perpetual arc through the sky and had set since they started their impromptu stakeout. The SUV was littered with takeaway containers. Owen was lying curled up on his right side in the back seat, rubbing his sore bum, while Tosh kept watch over the world on her monitor screens from the driver's seat and Jack fidgeted uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

"Same one. Let's get out of here. They might not be back for months. Years."

"I know," Jack said in a low voice, his lips twisted with frustration. Owen perked up at this first sign that Jack was finally starting to see things his way. "I just...to be so near..." He sighed.

Owen sat up and leaned forward. "Look, Jack, why don't we check out the festival tomorrow. That Whitman bloke said they would be there."

"Might," Jack corrected.

"Well, we can't just sit here forever," Owen pointed out reasonably, if a bit tetchily.

One corner of Jack's mouth curled down. "Tosh. Are there any Torchwood One properties left that we could bunk in tonight?"

Tosh consulted her monitors. "Three. Alpha Tourega, Gamma Hidalgo and Epsilon Frank."

"Frank?" Jack asked in disbelief.

"Don't look at me, I didn't name them," Tosh said defensively. She peered at the monitor and clicked a few keys. "The government confiscated everything else after Canary Wharf."

Owen looked over her shoulder at the monitor screen. "Looks like the three that are left are not in great areas."

"Or in great shape," Tosh agreed. "Probably why they're still in Torchwood's name. And empty. The government couldn't shift them."

"Well, the living quarters and cells will be in good shape," Jack said. He looked at the screen. "Frank's closest to Notting Hill. Let's check it out."

Tosh turned the key in the ignition, put the black SUV in gear, and drove off quickly, before Jack could have a change of heart. As they wheeled down Bannerman Road and out of sight of Sarah's house, a light flashed in the darkened windows, off and on, off and on, and a groaning, wheezing noise could be heard throughout the street.

* * *

Martha Jones was the first one out of the TARDIS doors when they opened. She spun in a circle, then flopped dramatically on Sarah's couch, her legs propped up on the arm. "Oh. What a day. What a day what a day!" she gushed.

Harry and Sarah emerged from the TARDIS right behind her, Harry carrying several white paper bags. "It was pretty spectacular, " Harry agreed with a smile as he headed for the kitchen.

"You inhabit a remarkable planet," Rohstan agreed, as he and Galindor also exited the time and space ship, carrying more white bags and following Harry.

"More remarkable than I ever realized," Sarah said, sitting in her desk chair and chuckling at the sprawled-out Martha.

"Report, Mistress."

Martha shrieked and leapt up off the couch at the unexpected tinny voice. She stared, wide-eyed, at K-9, who had just trundled into the room. "What is that?" she asked emphatically.

"That's my dog," Sarah said with a mixture of reproof and amusement.

"Of course it is," Martha said, taking in the little robot's form. "Present from...?" She gave a sideways nod toward the TARDIS.

Sarah nodded. "What do you have to report, K-9?" she asked the little dog.

"Intruders, Mistress."

Sarah frowned slightly, glanced around the room, and noticed the open window. She stood, went to the window, looked out into the night, then shut it and turned back to K-9. "Did you sort them, K-9?"

"Yes, Mistress. I administered Level 2 force according to subroutine twelve of guard dog mode."

"Good boy," Sarah said.

"There was a break-in while we were gone?" Martha asked, frowning.

"So K-9 says," Sarah said lightly.

"You don't sound very bothered," Martha commented.

Sarah pooched out her lips dismissively. "I was half expecting it. There've been a series of break-ins in the neighborhood lately. Nothing big taken, just petty cash and small electronics. The police think it's a gang of local youths." She grinned. "I even created a new subroutine just for them in case they decided to hit my house. Did it work, K-9?"

"Affirmative," K-9 said. "They exited rapidly after Level 2 force was applied to the specified location."

"Aren't you worried they'll go to the police and tell them about...him?" Martha said, jerking her head toward K-9.

"Hmm, let's see. 'Officer, my friends and I were breaking into a house on Bannerman Road and we were attacked by a robot dog...' No, not too worried," Sarah answered with a smile.

"See your point," Martha agreed.

"Mistress," K-9 said.

"Yes, K-9?"

"One of the intruders requested that I relay a message."

Sarah laughed. "I bet he did," she said. She looked at K-9. "You just erase that message from your memory banks, K-9. We don't need that sort of language in this house."

"Erasure complete," K-9 said after a brief whirr and a quick ear swivel.

"Are you going to play with the dog or eat?" Harry asked, popping his head out of the kitchen door.

"Eat!" both women answered enthusiastically, and headed for the kitchen.

The table was loaded with containers when they arrived. "Now that's what I call takeaway," Harry said. "Indian from India and home before it's cold." He looked up expectantly. "Where's the Doctor?"

"He said he wanted to check a few things in the TARDIS," Sarah said.

"I'll go tell him supper's ready," Martha said, jumping up from her seat and heading out the door.

She was back in a minute. "He says to go ahead, he'll be along in a bit."

Sarah frowned slightly, but Harry just shrugged and dug in. The others emulated him, and for awhile, only the sounds of eating and appreciative "mmm's" were heard around the table.

Martha's laughter broke into the culinary noises. "What?" Harry asked, looking up from his food.

"I was just thinking about the Doctor...riding that ostrich..."

Sarah grinned. "I think that was a new experience even for him."

"The avian lifeforms on your planet are astonishingly varied," Rohstan said.

"Yes, they are," Sarah agreed. "Remember those hummingbirds in the Amazon? Tiny, perfect jewels." She shook her head, picturing them again.

"You know, if everyone could go on a trip like we had today," Martha said. "I think we'd take better care of the planet."

"Amen," Harry said around a mouthful of curried rice. "Mind, I don't think they'd get the same reception we got if they landed on Ayer's Rock in the middle of an aboriginal ceremony the way we did."

"Uluru," Sarah corrected him.

"Right," he said. "I thought we were in trouble then."

"Why is that, Harry Sullivan?" asked Galindor.

"Well, didn't think they'd appreciate anyone interrupting their ceremony. Any outsiders, that is. And you have to admit--you two are more outside than most outsiders."

Rohstan nodded.

"But they just looked at you--right at you, like the perception filters didn't work at all--and nodded like...like you'd been expected. Or invited!" Martha laughed.

The conversation continued as they reviewed their adventurous day of sightseeing Planet Earth, but Sarah fell silent, glancing more and more often at the doorway to the kitchen.

"Want me to check on him again?" Martha asked softly.

Sarah shook her head. "Don't want him to think we're worried about him."

"Why not? You obviously are."

Just then, the Doctor entered the kitchen and took his place at the table.

"'Bout time," Harry said. "Nearly didn't save you anything."

The Doctor looked at the dishes on the table. "Go ahead and finish it off if you like. I'm not really hungry."

Sarah's mouth went dry at his words. She went quickly to his side and crouched by him, reaching out to smooth her fingers across his forehead. "What's wrong?" she asked softly. She didn't have to ask _if _something was wrong. She knew that much, knew it in her heart, in a way she would not have known it twenty-four hours before. And when he raised troubled brown eyes to hers, she knew that he wouldn't, couldn't hide behind the usual, "Nothing, I'm fine" anymore. Not with her.

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head unhappily. "I just feel...strange."

"Strange how?" Sarah asked.

The Doctor grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. Just...achey. Having chills on and off."

"Chills? You?" Sarah asked in worried surprise.

He nodded ruefully. "Yeah. How weird is that?" He grabbed a napkin off the table and, turning away from Sarah, blew his nose loudly in it. "My nose is drizzling," he said with disgust, dabbing at the offending feature. "I'm sneezing and coughing." He rubbed his chest, fingers splayed. "Even my respiratory bypass system feels congested." His hand moved to his face and he pressed his thumb on one cheekbone, his forefinger on the other. "My head feels like it's full of cotton wool." He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "It started yesterday but seemed to come and go for awhile. But today...it just got worse and worse as the day progressed."

Harry looked at Martha. "Doctor?"

Martha's eyebrows went up, but she accepted the challenge. "Well. If he were human. I'd say his symptoms were consistent with a diagnosis of...a cold."

Harry nodded. "And I would concur."

The Doctor's head came up and his eyes snapped open. "A cold. A cold? What sort of rubbish immune system do you think I have?"

Martha squirmed under his annoyed gaze. "Well. You have certainly presented some severe challenges to your immune system in the past week. With the cellular disruptions and all." She looked at him apologetically. "With humans, at least, something like that could lower your resistance and make you more likely to...catch a cold," she finished, the last three words in a very small voice indeed.

Sarah looked at the Doctor's face, then turned to Harry and Martha. "Come on. Give him a proper exam before jumping to a diagnosis. Harry, you read up on Time Lord medicine last trip."

"You did?" Martha said, turning to Harry in surprise.

Harry nodded. "Um-hm," he confirmed. "Great section in the TARDIS library. You should look into it if you're going to be personal physician to himself here." He jerked his head toward the Doctor.

"Harry," Sarah pleaded. "Do you have your bag with you?"

"In the car."

"Well, give me the keys and I'll go get it."

"I'll get it," he said, standing up and pulling out his keys.

"Ooh, I'll get my new stethoscope," Martha said excitedly. They exited the kitchen together.

"Doctor, what is a cold?" Rohstan asked.

"A human disease," the Doctor said with deep disdain, making the word 'human' sound like an indictment.

The doctor and the doctor in training returned at the same time.

"Take off your jacket and unbutton your shirt," Harry said. The Doctor obeyed, handing his jacket to Sarah, who hung it on the back of a chair. Harry pulled his stethoscope out of his medical bag.

"Oh, try this one," Martha said, handing her stethoscope to Harry.

He looked at it. "Why?"

"It's marvelous. Whole new design."

"Where did you get it?"

"The Doctor gave it to me," she said, smiling at the Time Lord. "It's what they use on Galindor and Rohstan's planet."

Harry took it and examined it carefully. "Huh. That's interesting. What they did with the..."

"Oi! Sick Time Lord here," the Doctor interrupted, frowning and crooking a thumb at himself. "Not medical equipment swap shop."

"Sorry." Harry and Martha had the grace to look shame-faced. Harry put on the new stethoscope and pressed the bell to the Doctor's chest. "Deep breath." The Doctor complied, and Harry listened. Then he turned to Martha. "This is amazing," he said. "Great..."

"Harry," Sarah said warningly as the Doctor's eyes flashed.

"Sorry." Harry got back to business, moving the bell of the stethoscope to another spot on the Doctor's chest. "Deep breath." The Doctor complied again, rolling his eyes. Harry repeated the process in several other spots on his chest, then on his back, sometimes asking for a breath, sometimes for a cough. "Um-hm," he said as he handed Martha's stethoscope back to her. "Care for a listen?"

The Doctor's eyes widened and rolled even more, but he sat quietly as she moved the bell of the stethoscope around his chest and back, and complied with her requests for deep breaths and coughs as he had for Harry. She listened intently, then looked up at him with big, soft eyes as she pulled the stethoscope away. "Definitely congested," she said to Harry.

Next, Harry pulled a thermometer out of his bag and stuck it in the Doctor's ear. The Doctor darted a concerned look toward the thermometer, but sat firm for the short time it took for the device to beep. Harry took it out of his ear and looked at the readout, showed it to Martha, who frowned, and then showed it to the Doctor. "That normal?"

The Doctor nodded. "Near enough."

Harry pooched out his bottom lip and nodded. He put a thumb on the Doctor's eyelid and gently pulled it up, peered closely at the brown eye underneath, then repeated the process with the other eye. "Um-hm," he said. Then he pulled a tongue depressor out of his bag and unwrapped it. "Open your mouth and say 'aah'." The Doctor looked puzzled, but did as he was asked. His eyes went wide when Harry stuck the flat wooden blade in his mouth and pushed down on his tongue. "Again." The Doctor 'aahed' again and Harry peered at his throat with interest. "Um-hm," he said again as he took the tongue depressor out of the Doctor's mouth. He turned to Martha. "Doctor?" Martha gave him a puzzled and slightly panic-stricken look. "Any other diagnostic tests you care to perform?" Harry clarified.

"Oh. Erm. Well. I think you covered it."

Harry nodded. "And?"

Martha squirmed and grimaced. "I still think he has a cold," she finally said.

"Certainly looks like one," Harry said.

The Doctor snorted, got to his feet and strode out of the kitchen, shirt-tails flapping behind him.

Everyone but Sarah exchanged puzzled glances. "I think he's gone to get a second opinion," Sarah said.

"From?" Harry asked.

"The TARDIS. Her medical systems."

"Why didn't he do that in the first place then?"

Sarah shrugged. "She probably isn't even programmed for the possibility of a Time Lord catching a cold," she speculated.

Two minutes later, he was back, looming in the doorway, all dark eyes and grim looks. "I have a cold," he said through clenched teeth, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "I. Have a cold," he repeated with deep disgust. He looked around the room. "I have saved this planet and this species from more alien invaders and natural disasters than I can count. And this is the thanks I get. A cold."

The humans hung their heads, unwilling to meet those simmering eyes. "Sorry," they all muttered.

"Doctor. Surely your human friends did not inflict this illness upon you," Rohstan said softly.

The Doctor took a deep breath, then another, and his features relaxed fractionally. "Of course they didn't," he finally said, swallowing hard. "Sorry. It's just...so..." He shook his head and huffed out a frustrated breath. Apparently there was no word in any of the innumerable languages he knew to adequately express the indignity of a Time Lord afflicted with the common cold. "Sorry," he said again, sounding more truly contrite this time. He squared his shoulders. "So. What do you people do when you catch one of these things?"

Harry and Martha exchanged glances. "Rest. Lots of fluids," Harry said.

The Doctor stared at him. "That's the cure?"

Harry shook his head. "There is no cure. Your immune system just has to battle it out with the virus."

Sarah saw his eyes going stormy again at this news. "We have all sorts of cold remedies," she said. Then she wrinkled her nose. "Not sure if you could take any, though. Or if they'd do you any good."

"Well, if there's no cure, what do these remedies do?"

"Treat the symptoms," Martha said. "Make you feel better while the cold runs its course."

"Do you have any?" he asked Sarah.

"I'll check," she said, and hurried out of the room to rummage in her medicine cabinet. She returned, empty-handed, to the kitchen. "Sorry. Nothing that isn't seriously past its use-by date."

"Can we get some?"

"Of course," Sarah said. "If you think it will help."

"Won't know until I see what's in them," he said, starting to sound a little more like his normal self, albeit a congested version thereof.

"Well. A lot of them have aspirin in them. We'll have to be careful of those." He nodded.

* * *

"Aspirin. No good," Martha said as she read a label. They had left Galindor and Rohstan at Sarah's place with Harry to entertain them while they headed to Tesco's to shop the cold remedies aisle. So far, they had a cart half full of boxes and bottles that claimed their contents would relieve the various symptoms of the common cold. The Doctor, specs perched on the end of his drizzling nose, seemed determined to read every label of every product on the shelf.

"Think we might have enough?" Sarah asked tentatively. The Doctor looked over the tops of his glasses at the boxes in the cart, darted his eyes at Sarah, and went back to reading the label of the product in his hand. "Guess not," she said wryly.

When he finally ran out of labels to read, they checked out and headed home with a heavy bag of over-the-counter cold remedies. Once they arrived back at Sarah's, the Doctor opened all the boxes and arrayed the products on the kitchen table. He picked up the first one, re-read the label, opened the bottle, dipped his finger in the thick orange liquid it contained, and then licked his finger tentatively. He meditated on the taste for a moment, smacking his lips, then took a swig from the bottle. He twisted the cap back on and proceeded to the next item on the table. Again, he read the label closely, tasted, and ruminated on the taste. This time, he just wrinkled his nose, replaced the cap and moved on to the next bottle.

His friends watched him with fascination. Some of the remedies made him flap his tongue in disgust, but enough of them met with his approval to make Harry speak up.

"Erm. Doctor. You aren't supposed to take them all at once."

The Doctor looked up at him. "_You _aren't supposed to take them all at once."

"Okay," Harry said, pooching out his lips and widening his eyes. He sat back and watched without further comment.

By the time the Doctor had worked his way through all of the products, he had taken full doses--and then some--of at least half a dozen of them. Sarah had grown more and more concerned throughout the procedure, but after Harry's attempt at reasoning with a sick Time Lord, she just held her peace. She knew from experience how well he knew his own body and what it needed. And how much. She just had to trust that his instincts weren't being clouded by the unfamiliar cold symptoms.

He sat, eyes unfocussed, hands stretched out on the table, one on either side of the array of bottles and boxes.

"Doctor?" Martha asked. He didn't respond.

"Doctor?" Harry asked. He at least got a look from the Time Lord, but no comment.

Rohstan peered at his friend. "Doctor?" The Doctor blinked and, with an effort, focussed on the alien scientist.

"I.. may have...overdone it," he said hesitantly, looking a bit queasy. He lurched to his feet, tipping the chair over backwards behind him. Harry grabbed the chair before it could hit the floor and Sarah and Martha both jumped to support the Doctor.

"Zero room?" Sarah asked.

"Zero room," the Doctor confirmed, and he swiveled around to face the kitchen door, nearly overbalancing in Martha's direction in the process. Sarah pulled and Martha pushed and he found his feet again. Together they headed, weaving and wobbling, into the TARDIS.


	9. Chapter 9

"How is he?"

"Miserable," Sarah answered miserably when she and Martha returned to the kitchen ten minutes later. She slid into her chair at the kitchen table, folded her arms, leaned back and sighed.

Harry shook his head and gave her a crooked smile. "Hon, he has a cold," he said gently. "Something millions survive on a daily basis."

"Millions of humans, yes," Sarah said.

"Sarah, you and I have seen him take a bullet in the abdomen and spit it out and be on his feet as if nothing had happened the next morning."

"You have?" Martha said, surprised.

Harry nodded. "I really don't think a cold germ stands much of a chance."

Sarah didn't smile. "I'm sure the Europeans who took their minor diseases to the Americas didn't expect the Native Americans to die in their thousands of them, either."

Harry shook his head. "It's not the same. They'd never been exposed to them. He's been associating with humans for at least forty years that we know of. Probably more. He's undoubtedly been exposed to every disease we have on offer and I'm sure has immunity to them all. He's just apparently done something to himself recently," he said, glancing at Martha, "that has lowered his resistance, as young Doctor Jones here suggested."

"The black salve may have exacerbated his lack of resistance to this disease," Rohstan said.

"How?" Sarah asked, frowning. "I thought it helped heal him."

"It did. It provides the nutrients needed for healing and encourages rapid repair of damaged tissues. However, the energy needed for the tissue repair must come from the body," the scientist explained. "As prodigious as the Doctor's energy reserves are, they must have been lowered by the cellular disruptions and the rapid healing which the salve enabled."

"He hasn't been his usual hyper self the last few days," Martha mused. "He's seemed almost...human."

"Good God, don't let him hear you say that," Harry said, and Martha laughed weakly.

"Harry, be fair. He apologized," Sarah said. "And you can't blame him for feeling a bit cranky. Some of _us _get that way when we have a cold," she said, looking down at her hands. "And we're used to them. We grow up having them. Imagine having your first cold at 900."

"I can't imagine having anything at 900," Harry said.

That coaxed a reluctant laugh from Sarah. "Well. Looks like we're all earthbound until he feels better. Should we do some more local sightseeing tomorrow?"

"You're not going to stay here to feed him chicken soup and make sure he has enough tissues?" Harry asked with a too-innocent air.

Sarah pursed her lips and gave Harry a direct look. "He's not like a human male. He doesn't want to be coddled and cossetted and catered to just because he has a cold. He wants to be left alone to get over it."

"He said that?"

Sarah shook her head. "He didn't need to. You know how he is. Goes into one of his healing comas to put himself right. The more he's disturbed, the more it slows down the process."

Harry nodded agreement. "OK. Then where are we off to? British Museum? Tower of London?"

Sarah looked at Galindor and Rohstan with a tentative smile. "Not sure I'm up to places like that. Where we really have to rely on the perception filters. Without the Doctor to back us up in case they don't work."

"Then what?"

Sarah thought for a bit. "Toby--my friend with Planet 3--suggested the Notting Hill carnival. Maybe we should go there." She turned to her guests. "It's a huge festival, a celebration of the diversity of our population."

"Lots of music, lots of food," Martha chimed in.

"And lots of colorful, outrageous costumes. Toby was right. No one would look twice at the two of you, even if the perception filters failed for some reason."

Galindor and Rohstan exchanged looks, then Rohstan turned to Sarah and nodded. "We look forward to this experience."

* * *

"Dude! Awesome costume!"

A lanky young man with shoulder-length hair, wearing a Megadeth Road Tour T-shirt and baggy flowered shorts, slouched all the way around Galindor, admiring his plumage. Galindor raised and spread his crest and fluffed his tailfeathers proudly and the tourist's eyes bugged out. "Dang! You've even got servomotors in there! You Brits really go in for this!" He peered curiously at Galindor's face. "How do you do the eyes and beak?"

"Oh, can't give away all our secrets," Sarah said, or rather shouted, to make herself heard over the steel band that started playing behind her just as she spoke.

The five friends had arrived at the Notting Hill carnival a few hours earlier and had been enjoying the parades, the music, the food, and the colorful swirl of costumed celebrants that surrounded them. Sarah had checked on the Doctor before they left, finding him still floating peacefully, deep in a healing trance, in the zero room. She left a note on the TARDIS console telling him where they were going, hoping he woke up feeling well enough to join them.

"You going to be in the costume contest?" Galindor's admirer shouted the question at him.

"What is a costume contest?" Galindor replied.

"What's that?" The young man put a hand behind his ear and leaned toward Galindor. "When is it? Or where?" The steel band was playing with ever greater enthusiasm--and volume.

"What is the meaning of costume contest?" Galindor asked, glancing over at Sarah.

The young man shook his head to indicate he still couldn't hear. "Main stage. Starts in ten minutes. Go for it! You're a shoo-in!" He wandered off with a friendly wave.

Sarah took Galindor by the arm and walked him away from the band so they could hear each other.

"Sarah Jane, what is a costume contest?"

"It's a competition to judge which person's costume is the best."

Galindor's eyes brightened. "May I compete?" Then his crest fell. "But it would not be fair. I am just me. I am not wearing a costume."

Sarah grinned at him fondly. "I think just you can compete with the best of the dressed-up humans," she said.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Harry had arrived from a quick stop at a food vendor's in time to overhear their exchange.

Sarah shrugged. "The whole point of coming here was that people would think they were in costume. What could be more convincing than entering the costume contest?"

Harry nodded. "Good point." He held out the food to her. "Jerk chicken?"

"Thanks," she said, breaking off a bite-sized piece. They meandered over to join Martha and Rohstan where they were examining the wares of a wood carvings vendor and explained, over the noise of the music and the milling masses of humanity, about the costume contest.

Martha laughed. "This should be well worth the price of admission!" she said. "Let's go!"

They helped Galindor sign up for the contest and were given a small cardboard placard bearing the number 31. It was on a string that the human contestants were just slipping over their heads. Sarah and Martha took an appraising look at Galindor's crest, then untied the knot that held the string together and retied it loosely around his neck.

The first entrants took the stage in short order and Galindor studied each one carefully. Each had a posse of supporters, apparently, as wild clapping, shouting and enthusiastic hooting broke out in different parts of the audience as each new contestant sashayed onto the stage, twirled and danced to show off his or her costume to best advantage, then took a bow and exited when the judges nodded that they had seen enough and marked their notepads.

Galindor's turn came, and for a moment he stood, frozen in position, at the side of the stage. "Think he's got stage fright?" Martha asked. Sarah just gave her an eyebrows-up amused smile. "Oh. Forgot who we were talking about for a second," Martha said with a broad grin.

"Galindor Flumenplock!" the announcer called out with gusto, and Galindor gamboled onto the stage in full strut. Sarah and Martha and Harry had to laugh. This was a side of their guest that they hadn't seen yet. Some of his moves were familiar--he had been watching, after all--but some were pure alien and so outrageous they heard gasps of amazement and laughter throughout the crowd.

The judges just stared, forgetting to nod or mark their notepads. Finally, the MC caught their eyes and tapped his watch pointedly, and they, with some difficulty, got Galindor off the stage.

He rejoined his friends in the crowd, receiving back slaps and high fives from enthusiastic strangers as he pushed his way through to reach them. His eyes were sparkling and his crest was rising and falling rapidly. "Oh, that was enjoyable!" he gushed when he finally arrived back with the others. "Thank you for helping me to participate."

"It's not over," Martha said. "They still have to pick a winner."

"Do you mean it is not solely for the purpose of entertaining the audience?" Galindor asked.

"Well. Mostly," Sarah said. "But it is a contest. So they'll name a winner and possibly some runners-up."

'Runners-up' didn't translate well, so they were deep in an explanation of the concept when they heard the announcer call a series of numbers. "...and number 31, back to the stage please!"

"31! That's you!" Martha said, beaming. "Go!"

Galindor did not need to be told twice. He bounded onto the stage and started doing his alien version of Saturday Night Fever again, receiving wild cheers from the audience until the announcer managed to corral him with the other recalled contestants.

The announcer accepted a sheet of paper from the head judge, looked at it, then turned to the audience. "In third place, number 27, Maria De La Mar!" An olive-skinned woman in a shimmering blue outfit with an enormous headdress that looked like an exotic flower smiled and danced across the stage to accept a small loving cup from the judge. "In second place, number 12, Raoul Stewart!" A tall, well-built man in an orange flamenco-style outfit, covered with flashing sequins and tiny gems, strode across the stage to accept a slightly larger loving cup. "And in first place...." He paused dramatically, sweeping his gaze across the audience. "Number 31, Galindor Flumenplock!" The crowd stomped and screamed, and Galindor ducked, bobbed and weaved across the stage to accept the biggest of the loving cups. He waved it at Sarah and the others delightedly.

A tall, extremely handsome man with bright blue eyes and a friendly, open smile accosted Galindor as he climbed down off the stage. "Sir. We'll need you for publicity pictures. If you'll come with us."

Galindor stared at him. "But I need to return to my friends."

The man, who wore a long blue coat with brass buttons, nodded reassuringly. "We'll get you back with them as soon as the photo shoot is over."

"Photo shoot? Publicity?" Galindor raised his head and looked across the crowd toward his uncle and his earthling friends again, then turned to the man who had spoken to him. "Please guide me to the necessary location."

"This way," Jack Harkness said, taking Galindor by the elbow and leading him away from the stage and away from his friends.

Sarah stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck, watching Galindor's crest recede into the crowd. "Where's he going?"

"We'd better find out," Harry said, and started shouldering his way through the crowd toward the stage, the other three following in his wake. They arrived at the point where the contestants had climbed off the stage and looked around, but saw no sign of their feathery friend. "Excuse me," Harry said, catching the attention of the announcer. "Do you know where the winner of the costume contest went?"

The man pursed his lips and shook his head. "I think to have his picture taken." He frowned. "But the photo booth is just around the other side of the stage. So not sure why that man took him off that way." He nodded in the direction Galindor had been led.

"I don't like this," Sarah said.

"Nor I," Harry agreed, frowning. He caught Martha and Rohstan's eyes. "Spread out and see if you can locate him. Meet back here in..." He consulted his watch. "Ten minutes. OK?"

They all nodded and headed off in different directions, pushing through the costumed, colorful crowds, searching for their uncostumed, colorful friend.

* * *

"We appear to be exiting the vicinity of the carnival," Galindor said to Jack as he was, indeed, being led away from the noise and chaos of the festival and toward a narrow alleyway. "What is the location where the photographs will be taken?"

"Just up ahead," Jack said reassuringly, nodding subtly toward the fringes of the crowd.

Owen had been shadowing them, blending in with the crowd, until he saw Jack's signal. Then he moved in on Galindor's other side.

Jack nodded again, and each man grasped one of Galindor's arms and pulled it behind him, where Owen quickly attached a pair of handcuffs to his wrists.

Galindor turned troubled eyes from one man to the other and tested the cuffs. "Is this a human custom for photographs?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "It's a human custom when dealing with aliens who have what look like very sharp talons."

Galindor stopped in his tracks, staring at Jack. "I would not harm a human with my talons."

"Yeah, that's what you say now," Owen said, taking him by the elbow and getting him moving again toward the alleyway and the black SUV parked there.

"But...my friends...they will be concerned. Please allow me..." They reached the SUV and Owen opened the back door and shoved Galindor inside.

"We'll be bringing them along too," Jack said, as he shut the door on Galindor's protests. "One of them at least." He tapped the earpiece in his left ear. "Tosh? Have you got her yet?"

"No," said Tosh softly as she followed Sarah Jane at a discreet distance. "Still too many people around."

"Well, hurry up. We don't want to be sitting in the SUV with Birdman here forever waiting for you."

"Roger," Tosh said, nodding her head sharply. She increased her pace to catch up with Sarah, moved in and took her by the elbow. "Miss Smith?" she asked.

Sarah turned, startled, and pulled away from her grasp. "I'm sorry, this really isn't a good time. I'm trying to find my friend."

"I know," Tosh said. "I'm here to take you to him."

Sarah went very still, staring at Tosh as if she were trying to memorize her every feature. "Where is he? Who are you?"

"Torchwood," Tosh said. "Come with me." She reached out again to take Sarah's arm, but Sarah wasn't there anymore. She had quickly stepped back a pace.

"Tosh!" She heard Jack's voice in her ear. "Remember what I said. Kid gloves."

"Right," Tosh replied. She took a step toward Sarah.

"You have no right to take him anywhere," Sarah said, backing up again, her voice low and dangerous.

"Yes we do. It's our job to protect the Earth from alien menaces," Tosh said.

Sarah rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue. "No one could be less of a menace to anyone than Galindor."

"So, you admit he's an alien," Tosh said.

Sarah pursed her lips unhappily, mentally kicking herself for walking into that one. "Fine. Take me to him."

Tosh took a step toward her again, and Sarah backed off. "Just lead. I'll follow," she said, giving her a "move-along" wave of her hand.

Tosh pursed her lips and looked unhappy at that, but headed off in the direction that Jack had taken Galindor, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure Sarah was still following.

"She's following you?" Jack's voice was very soft in her ear.

"Yes," Tosh said, equally softly, ducking her head and facing forward.

"When you get to the edge of the crowd, make sure you have her under control," Jack instructed. "We don't want her bolting for help once she sees us."

"Right," Tosh answered.

As the crowd thinned, Sarah scanned the narrow streets in front of her, looking for Galindor. Tosh noticed her momentary distraction and quickly stepped in close to her, grasping her wrist firmly and bending her arm behind her.

"Oh, ow, please don't," Sarah moaned in a weak, frightened voice. She moved with the pressure Tosh was putting on her arm rather than fighting it, half-collapsing into the Asian girl as if she were fainting with fear. Tosh took a step backwards, startled at Sarah's unexpected reaction. Sarah took advantage of her confusion, twisted free of her grasp and gripped her wrist, pulling her off-balance and planting a boot firmly in the seat of her pants as she careened by.

"Whoa," Jack said appreciatively as he watched the fracas from his position leaning on the hood of the SUV.

Tosh was on her feet in an instant and reaching for Sarah, but once again, Sarah wasn't there. She had faded back just enough to feel the wind of Tosh's passing, grasping the younger woman's wrist as it flew by and applying force as the Doctor had taught her when he'd given her Venusian Aikido lessons so many years before.

Tosh went head over heels and landed, stunned, flat on her back.

"C'mon, Tosh," she heard in her ear. "You aren't going to let a little old lady wipe the pavement with you, are you?"

She darted a furious look in the general direction of the SUV. "You are enjoying this way too much, Jack," she said as she rolled to her feet and turned to face Sarah again. "Kid gloves," she added with deep disgust, and heard Jack chuckle in her earpiece.

She and Sarah faced off, neither underestimating the other this time, moving slowly in a circular fashion, arms held out to their sides, each looking for an opening. Before either could make another move, the sound of police whistles rang through the area and three burly officers surrounded the two women.

"Oh, shit, that's done it," Jack said, all amusement gone from his voice. "Tosh, get out of there."

Tosh turned to run, but Sarah stuck out a foot and tripped her. She landed in the arms of one of the police.

Sarah had spotted the black SUV and could just make out Galindor's crest in the back seat. She saw a man hurriedly entering the front passenger seat in a flurry of long blue coat and took off running toward the alleyway.

"And where do you think you're off to, ma'am," asked a policeman, as he blocked her way and grabbed her wrists.

"They have my friend," Sarah said, trying unsuccessfully to shake him off. "Stop them."

The officer glanced in the direction Sarah was looking, but the SUV was already in motion and blending in with traffic. "Who?"

Sarah sighed and unhappily relaxed in his grasp. "Never mind."

"Now that's better," he said. "A lady of your age shouldn't be engaging in street fights anyway, if I may say so."

"She tried to steal my handbag," Sarah said, looking back at Tosh.

"Did she then? Well. Good for you for standing up for yourself then." He looked at Tosh. "And what do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

"Tosh?" Tosh didn't answer either the policeman or the quiet word in her ear, but did relax in the grip of the officer and listened intently to Jack's voice. "I'm pulling strings already. Just go along with them and don't tell them anything. Plead the fifth."

"Whatever that is," she muttered.

* * *

"Sarah!"

"Begging your pardon, sir, please keep your distance. The lady is in custody," a policeman said as Harry tried to approach Sarah.

"Custody? What for?"

"Fighting, sir. Can't have that at the carnival. Them days are over. It's a family-friendly event now," the officer said as they marched Sarah and Tosh along. Harry fell into step with the little procession and the policeman looked him over carefully. "You a friend of one of the ladies?"

"That one," Harry said, nodding toward Sarah. She gave him a rueful smile and a little wave.

"Says t'other one tried to snatch her handbag. Was giving her a right going over when we stepped in."

Harry ducked his head to hide a smile. "That doesn't sound like Sarah," he said seriously to the policeman once he got his features under control.

"Yes, she was, sir. God's truth."

They arrived at the carnival security tent, where Sarah and Tosh were told to take seats and stay put until someone could sort out exactly what had happened. Harry sat next to Sarah, ignoring the disapproving stares of the police.

"They have him, Harry," Sarah said grimly, softly enough so only he could hear.

"Who?" he asked, equally quietly.

Sarah glared at Tosh. "Torchwood."

"Ah," Harry said, looking at the young Asian woman appraisingly. "This one?"

Sarah just nodded.

"He's as good as found, then," Harry said, pulling out his mobile and flipping it open.

* * *

Martha checked her watch for the tenth time in five minutes, then frowned at it and tapped its crystal. She sat on the bottom step of the short flight of stairs that led off the stage and, after verifying her watch was still working, went back to scanning the crowd anxiously. Rohstan paced up and down in front of her, also scanning every passing face with worried eyes.

Then Martha's features relaxed into a beaming grin as a familiar tall slim form in pin-stripes emerged from the mass of carnival-goers. "Doctor!" she cried happily, standing up and waving to get his attention.

The Doctor stopped, looked around, spotted her and elbowed his way through the crowd to join her. "What's happened? Where's Sarah?" he asked, grasping her upper arms and fixing her with an intent look.

"Looking for Galindor," Martha said. The Doctor frowned and she continued. "He went off with someone who said he wanted to take his picture. But the carnival officials say he wasn't with the carnival." She looked at him with concern. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he said dismissively. "Is Sarah alright?"

"She was last time I saw her."

"Which was?" he asked impatiently.

"About forty-five minutes ago. We were all supposed to meet back here in ten," Martha said unhappily.

The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed and he looked around, craning his neck to see over the crowd. "Rohstan? Do you have any idea where he'd have gone?"

Rohstan shook his head unhappily. "You are familiar with his nature, Doctor. He is exceedingly trusting. He does not anticipate harm or cruelty from anyone."

The Doctor put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's keep hoping he hasn't met with either." Rohstan nodded resignedly. "And let's find him," the Doctor added, a steely look in his brown eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

"Doctor!" Sarah cried happily. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders when she saw the Time Lord speaking to Martha and Rohstan at their designated meeting place.

"Sarah," he said, turning to her with a look of deep relief. He gripped her upper arms and just scanned her face hungrily for a moment, then reached up and brushed her hair back, letting his hand rest on her cheek. "You're alright."

"I'm fine," she said with a smile. Then the smile faded. "Well. If furious and worried sick can be considered fine." She sighed, then smiled up at him again. "You're better."

He nodded, then rolled his eyes. "It was only a cold," he said with a self-deprecating twist of his lips. "Not the..rainbow plague of Peresthenia."

"Sounds pretty," Harry commented.

"And deadly," the Doctor said.

"You did not locate Dor?" Rohstan asked Sarah in an anxious tone.

"No," Sarah said, turning to him. "But we know who has him. And Harry's working on getting him back."

They all turned to look at Harry, who was just standing there, hands in his pockets. "Hmm?" he said, suddenly realizing all eyes were on him. "Oh. Yes. I pulled some strings. Waiting on results." Just then, his mobile played the Mission Impossible theme, and he stepped away from the group to take the call.

"You woke me up," the Doctor said softly to Sarah as they waited. His lips curled in a confidential smile.

"I did?"

He nodded. "I knew something was wrong."

Sarah stared at him in puzzlement for a moment, then her eyes widened and her eyebrows lifted. "Because of the....?" She made a small gesture toward her shoulders.

He nodded again. "We're bonded," he said, very softly and very happily.

She felt herself blushing.

"Blast," Harry said as he slammed his phone shut and turned back to them.

"What?" Sarah asked, worried, the blush quickly fading.

Harry huffed a deeply annoyed breath. "The head of Torchwood showed up at police HQ. Trying to get his operative released."

"Torchwood?" the Doctor said, frowning.

Sarah looked up at him and nodded unhappily. "They tried to take me too," she said, and the Doctor's frown deepened.

Harry grinned at her. "But she apparently kicked the Torchwood girl's..."

"Harry!" Sarah interrupted, looking at him in surprise.

"...tailfeathers," Harry finished without missing a beat.

"Right," Sarah said, rolling her eyes at him.

"...giving the police a chance to apprehend her," Harry continued. "I called in a few chaps from the office to find out where they had taken Galindor." He grimaced. "But the girl wouldn't say a word. And now that her boss is there..."

"We have to find him," Sarah said earnestly.

Harry nodded. "I know. I've told my men to throw as many roadblocks in the way of getting the girl released as possible."

"How's that going to help?" Martha asked.

"Well," Harry said. "Torchwood Three--the Cardiff lot--is a pretty small operation. You saw two of them drive off with Galindor, right?" he asked, turning to Sarah. She nodded. "So, if the boss, this girl, and a third op are all in London, I think the odds are good that they haven't taken Galindor out of the city. At least not yet. Once they get the girl out, they'll high-tail it for Wales."

"So we have to find him before that happens," the Doctor said.

"If we don't want to have to dig them out of their HQ after they've gone to ground, yes," Harry said.

"But he could be anywhere in the city," Sarah said despairingly. "How are we going to find him?"

"After Canary Wharf, all of Torchwood's London properties were confiscated," Harry said. "Except for three they couldn't flog or even lease."

"Ahh," the Doctor said, nodding. "And we know where they are?"

"We do," Harry said with a grim smile.

* * *

It was nearly dark by the time Sarah and Martha arrived at the crumbling brick building that Harry said was one of the three properties still in Torchwood One's name.

"Doesn't look very promising," Martha said, surveying the derelict structure and the weed-grown cracked concrete parking area that surrounded it. The grey light of late evening did nothing to enhance the appeal of the place--just its eeriness.

"Could be like the TARDIS," Sarah said, fiddling with the wristband the Doctor had given her just before they all split up, the Doctor and Harry each taking one of the other properties to recce while Sarah and Martha teamed up on this one. Rohstan, despite his initial protests, finally saw the wisdom of staying out of Torchwood's hands himself and agreed to wait on news back at Sarah's house, with strict instructions to head deep into the TARDIS at the first sign of trouble.

"Bigger on the inside?" Martha asked with a grin.

"Well. Maybe not. But a shabby exterior can be a way to disguise a less than shabby interior." She frowned at the wrist band. "Did he mention the range of this gadget?"

Martha shook her head, looking at it. "Don't remember. Maybe we should get closer. And I promise never to tell him you called the TARDIS shabby," she added with a grin.

They slipped silently around the corner of the adjacent building, hugging the wall, staying in the shadows and out of sight of the old factory as best they could while zig-zagging their way closer to it. When a chained and padlocked gate barred their way, Martha sighed in frustration and started to head back the way they had come. "Hang about," Sarah called softly, pulling a small metallic object out of her pocket.

Martha peered at it in the fading light. "You're going to open a padlock with your lipstick?" she said skeptically.

Sarah grinned. "Maybe." She pulled the top off the lipstick, gave a quick twist to the tube, then aimed it at the lock. The tiny device emitted a high-pitched whine, accompanied by a pinkish glow, and the lock snapped open. Sarah gave it a satisfied nod, blew on the device as if it were a smoking gun barrel, and then grinned at the astonished Martha. "He gave it to me just before we left the house. Said he was going to give it to me after our lunch date but...well..."

"That's turned out to be the longest lunch date in history," Martha said.

"Exactly," Sarah agreed with a chuckle. "And he thought it might come in handy tonight." She pulled the opened padlock free of the chain and pushed the gate open just wide enough to slip through. "He was right."

Once on the other side of the gate, they skulked toward the building in the shadows of a row of volunteer trees that had started life as weeds and, left alone, had sprung to a height that camouflaged two short women quite well. The blank, black windows of the old place stared accusingly at them.

"No broken windows," Sarah whispered, indicating the building with a quick nod.

Martha scanned the wall facing them and nodded. "Odd in a building this decrepit."

Sarah just lifted her eyebrows at her, then consulted the wristband again. "Let's get closer."

They had to run the last ten yards across an open area that afforded them no cover at all. Sarah crouched low, trying to make herself as small as she could, and ran as silently as possible, Martha following close behind. When they reached the wall of the building, they flattened their backs against it so they couldn't be seen by anyone looking out those ominous intact windows.

Sarah again checked the wristband, pushing some tiny buttons and twisting a small dial. "Bingo," she said very softly and unhappily. She showed Martha the readout.

"Alien life form?" Martha said, her upper lip curling in distress.

Sarah nodded. She checked the readout again. "Underground if I'm reading this right."

"Makes sense," Martha said. "Let the visible part decay..."

Sarah nodded. "Exactly. Perfect camouflage. The underground bit is probably ultramodern and in perfect condition."

"And well defended," Martha added with a pointed look at Sarah.

Sarah shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. Harry said the Torchwood group in Cardiff is very small. They surely wouldn't leave their home base unguarded, so they can't all be in London. We know two are elsewhere..."

"I'm not just talking about people. What about alarm systems?"

Sarah patted the pocket that contained the sonic lipstick. "Might be able to get past those."

Martha shook her head bemusedly at Sarah. "You're as big an adrenaline junkie as he is. No wonder you get along so well."

"Don't see you sitting home in a rocking chair in front of the fire," Sarah said with a grin.

"Well," Martha said, ducking her head to hide her answering smile.

Sarah looked at the wristband again and frowned. "Wish I could be sure..." she said softly, trailing off.

"Of what?" Martha whispered back.

"That it's Galindor." Sarah's eyebrows furrowed. "And that he's alright."

"Who else could it be?" Martha asked. "And they wouldn't... Would they?"

Sarah compressed her lips. "Could be a Dalek or a Cyberman locked up in a cell and forgotten after Canary Wharf for all we know. And I wouldn't put anything past these people." She looked up at Martha. "How much do you know about Canary Wharf?"

"Too much," Martha said grimly. "Lost my cousin."

Sarah reached out and placed a compassionate hand on Martha's arm. "Oh Martha. I'm sorry," she said. Martha nodded silently. Sarah squeezed her arm lightly, then looked back at the wristband. After a moment, she looked up again. "You with me?"

"Shouldn't we call Harry and the Doctor?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not till we're sure. If Galindor isn't here, we don't want to call them away from searching the other properties where he might be."

Martha nodded, then looked up at Sarah. Their eyes met, and the pact was sealed. "_Allons-y_!" Martha said brightly, and Sarah grinned.

They crept silently along the wall of the building, nerves tuned to such a fine pitch that the sound of a dry twig cracking under Martha's shoe had them both hitting the ground simultaneously. Wide-eyed, they looked at each other, then shared a silent, shaky laugh and climbed to their feet.

They rounded the corner of the building before they came to a door. In keeping with the rest of the building, it was a very old and ramshackle door. Its original lock had obviously given up the ghost some years before, as a metal tab and padlock had been installed just above the knob. Sarah pulled out her sonic lipstick and scanned all around the edges of the door with it. Silently raising her eyebrows at Martha and giving her a small nod, she then aimed the lipstick at the padlock, which popped open with a click that sounded crashingly loud in the dusk. They grimaced and froze, listening with everything in them, for a full minute. When no sound came from inside the building, Sarah carefully removed the padlock from the metal ring, then pushed cautiously on the door.

It swung inward an inch with a creak and Sarah quickly grabbed the edge of it to stop its movement and silence the noise. Then she very slowly and carefully pushed it open far enough for her to slip through. She held it in place while Martha slid silently into the building behind her, then pushed it closed again.

They stood for a moment, side by side, allowing their eyes to adjust to the darkness in the building. They were in a long hall which had doors opening off it at regular intervals. The factory offices, Sarah thought, as they started to slowly and silently move down the corridor. She consulted the wristband again, hoping it would pinpoint the location of the alien life form it had detected and thereby keep them from having to search every room on the floor. Again it seemed to register as underground, and at the opposite end of the corridor from where they had entered. She showed Martha the readout and gestured toward the far end of the corridor with her eyebrows, getting a nod of agreement in return. They padded softly down the dust-covered hallway.

They found a stairwell at the end of the corridor, but the stairs in it only went up. Sarah played the sonic lipstick over the floor and walls, but they all proved to be perfectly solid. She looked at Martha and shook her head. "Looks like we're going to have to search the whole floor," she said in a barely audible whisper. Martha nodded, and they headed back into the corridor.

They worked their way down the hall, Sarah checking the rooms on the right hand side, Martha taking the left. After each silent inspection of a room, they would meet in the hallway with hopeful looks, then shake their heads and continue to the next pair of offices.

Halfway down the corridor, Sarah emerged from inspecting a room to find Martha waiting for her. She furrowed her brows questioningly, and Martha hooked a thumb toward the door behind her. "Broom closet," she whispered. Sarah nodded her understanding, and they started down the hall toward the next pair of doorways, when a memory slowed, then stopped, Sarah's feet.

Martha looked at her, and Sarah tipped her head back the way they had come, then headed for the door of the broom closet. Sarah opened the door and walked in, sonicing the small space with her lipstick. She gestured for Martha to join her and close the door. Martha did.

"I once knew a broom closet that was more than a broom closet," Sarah whispered in explanation. She tentatively tugged on the hooks on the wall where various janitorial implements hung. When she felt one give, she grinned at Martha. "Hang on," she mouthed, then slowly pulled the hook down as far as it would go.

With a click and a whirr, the broom closet slowly started to descend. Wide-eyed, Martha and Sarah both did their best to hide themselves in the cleaning supplies on the chance that there was a welcoming party waiting for them on the basement level. But luck--and quiet machinery--were on their side this time, and when they finally opened the door, no one pounced on them. On this level, the corridor opened out at the end into a well-lighted room. Instead of offices along the corridor walls, there were cells. In the cell closest to the lighted room, there was a flash of vibrant color. A feathery flash. Sarah grabbed Martha's upper arm and squeezed it with excitement. Martha nodded and grinned. "Now we call the Doctor?" she mouthed.

Sarah nodded, and they ducked back down the hallway away from the occupied cell and the room. They climbed back into the broom closet elevator, and Martha whipped out her mobile. Then she gave a disgusted sigh, and showed Sarah the screen. "No signal," it said.

"Go," she mouthed. "Back the way we came. Get out. Call the Doctor and Harry." She made a move toward the closet door and Martha grabbed her arm.

"What about you?" she whispered urgently.

"I'll be fine," Sarah assured her softly. "I want to make sure he's okay, and that they don't move him before the cavalry can get here."

Martha shook her head. "I don't like it. Come with me."

Sarah tightened her lips and shook her head. "I'll be fine," she repeated. "Just get them here. Fast." Martha still stood, holding her arm. Sarah gently disengaged her hand and opened the door carefully. "Go." She quietly slipped out the door and closed it behind her. She waited a moment, then gave the door an approving smile as she heard the well-tuned mechanism of the elevator start to take Martha up to the ground floor.

Sarah crept silently back down the hallway toward the cell where she had glimpsed Galindor. As she did, she heard a male voice speaking, and was suddenly intensely grateful for mobiles and the fact that they tended to monopolize their users' attention.

"Jack, what's holding you up?" she heard the man say. She took a few more cautious steps in the direction of the light and the voice, positioning herself where Galindor could see her. As soon as he looked her way, she put a finger to her lips to signal silence.

Apparently, a finger to the lips is not a universally recognized sign, she quickly learned. "Sarah Jane!" Galindor crowed happily. "Thank goodness you have come to find me. Please take me home." Makes sense, a small detached part of her brain said. No lips.

"Oh, and Jack?" the man on the phone said, turning to look at her. "I have the Smith woman." He hit a switch on the wall. "What should I do with her?"

Sarah turned on her heel and ran for the broom closet elevator, hoping Martha had sent it back down. She tugged fruitlessly on the door, expecting at any moment to be taken down by a flying tackle. When that didn't happen, she stopped fighting with the door and turned to look down the hallway.

She saw a fit young man with short, dark hair standing with his arms crossed, the mobile held to one ear, watching her with a look of sardonic amusement. "No, I saw what she did to Tosh. I'll be careful," he said into the phone. "She isn't your average middle-aged lady. I get it."

"Well, thanks for that," Sarah muttered as she walked down the hall towards him. She strode up to him, planted her feet well apart, folded her arms and glared at him. "Who are you?"

His sardonic smile grew more crooked as he looked down at her. "Owen Harper. Torchwood."

"That part I knew," Sarah said with a disgust she didn't even try to hide. "And what gives you the right to kidnap peaceful, friendly aliens and imprison them?"

He looked at her as if she were dim. "It's what we do," he said finally.

"No, what you do...what you are supposed to do...is to protect the earth from hostile aliens." She glanced over at the cell where Galindor stood patiently. "This alien is most definitely not hostile. Although I wouldn't blame him if he were after this."

"Sarah Jane, can we please leave now?" Galindor asked plaintively from his cell.

She glanced over at him. "Not just yet. Are you okay? They haven't hurt you, have they?"

"It is not very comfortable to have my arms pinioned by steel rings," he said. Sarah frowned at him, and he turned to show her his wrists still cuffed together behind his back.

Sarah turned back to Owen, her eyes spitting green fire. "How dare you treat him like a criminal! Take those things off him immediately!"

Owen's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, you heard her right," he said into the phone, which he still held to his ear. "She just ordered me to uncuff the bird bloke." He listened for a minute. "Right. I put the building into lockdown so she's not going anywhere." He leaned toward Sarah. "Even if she does beat me up," he said with a mocking tone and a patronizing grin.

With a sick lurch of her stomach, Sarah remembered him nonchalantly flicking a switch when he first turned to look at her. She crossed her fingers behind her back for Martha to have got clear of the building before he hit that switch.

"Well, get Tosh out of there. Fast," Owen said into the phone. "This one's not daft enough to have come here on her own without letting anyone know." He looked at Sarah appraisingly. "At least...I assume she isn't." He rang off, folded the mobile and stuck it in his pocket, pulling a gun out of another pocket in the same smooth movement and training it on Sarah. "Up against the wall," he said, motioning with the gun barrel.

Sarah complied, leaning against the cell door. Owen patted her down on one side, then the other.

"I don't carry a gun," she said dismissively.

"What's this then?" Owen asked as he patted her pocket, then reached into it. He pulled out the sonic lipstick and held it up.

"Lipstick," Sarah said, giving him a disdainful glance. "A lady likes to look her best even in trying circumstances." Her voice dripped sarcasm.

"Right," he said, handing it back to her. She took it and put it back in her pocket. Keeping her covered with the pistol, he opened the door of the cell next to Galindor's and, with a courtly half-bow and a graceful wave of his arm, invited her to step in. With a disgusted huff of breath, she did so. The door clanged shut behind her.


	11. Chapter 11

"Have you at least fed him?" Sarah called to Owen as he walked away after locking her in the cell. He turned on his heel and gave her a dumbfounded look. "Galindor, are you hungry?" Sarah asked. She couldn't see her friend because the walls between the cells were solid, but she knew he could hear her.

"Yes, very, Sarah Jane."

"See." Sarah said, looking pointedly at Owen. "Don't the Geneva conventions say something about having to feed prisoners? Or doesn't Torchwood care about such things?"

Owen raised his shoulders and shook his head. "It's only been a few hours. He's hardly in danger of starving."

"His metabolism runs a lot faster than ours," Sarah said. "He has to eat more and more often."

Owen sighed and glanced into the neighboring cell, obviously appraising his captive's condition. Sarah hoped Galindor had sense enough to try to look gaunt.

Whatever he did, it made Owen sigh again, deeply. "What does it eat?"

"It," Sarah said with asperity. "Is a he. And his name is Galindor Flumenplock."

"Fine, what does a Galindor Flumenplock eat?" Owen said resignedly.

"Mealworms," Sarah said. She heard a hungry "mmm" sound come from Galindor's cell, and saw Owen's face twist with disgust. "Fruit. Vegetables. Pad thai. Curry. Popcorn. Pizza. Donner kebabs. Pretty much anything you eat."

"I do not eat donner kebabs," Owen said emphatically. "And I've already found out that no one delivers to this place."

"Isn't there a kitchen in there?" Sarah asked, craning her neck and trying to get a view of the lighted room at the end of the hall. "Every workplace has to have a kitchenette or canteen or something."

"I am not opening that refrigerator again," Owen said with a shudder.

It was Sarah's turn to sigh at that. "Well, check the cupboards. Maybe they left behind some canned goods or something else not perishable after Canary Wharf."

Owen frowned at her when she mentioned Canary Wharf. "You know way too much, Miss Sarah Jane Smith," he said. "And we're going to find out why." Then he turned and walked into the room at the end of the hall. Sarah was relieved to hear what sounded like cupboard doors being opened and banged closed.

"Galindor," she whispered urgently.

"Yes, Sarah Jane?" he answered in a normal voice.

"Speak softly," Sarah said quietly. "And see if you can stick your wrists out between the bars of the cell door. As close to the wall as possible."

"I am able to do that," he said, much more softly. She reached out between the bars of her cell door and stretched her arm toward his cell, finding his hands and wrists and the cuffs that bound them. "Good. Don't move," she whispered, and pulled out her sonic lipstick. Working by feel alone, she gave each cuff a quick blast of sound, and was rewarded when she heard a double click and felt them come away in her hand. "Better?" she asked.

"Oh, very much better, thank you," Galindor answered softly.

Sarah draped the cuffs over her shoulder and turned her attention to the cell door. It didn't respond to the frequency that had juddered the locking mechanism of the handcuffs loose, so she adjusted the wavelength and tried again. The cell door stubbornly stayed locked. "Wish I'd had time to read the manual," Sarah muttered. "Assuming there is one," she added under her breath. She examined the device, cudgeled her memory for the times she'd used the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, and tried another setting.

The lock popped open and she beamed at it. She stuck the lipstick in one pocket, the cuffs in the other, let herself out of the cell and walked softly up behind Owen.

"Pardon me, but where is the ladies' room?" she asked when she was right behind him. She kept a straight face when he jumped a foot and spun to face her, but she was grinning inwardly.

"What the...how did you get out?" He grabbed her by the upper arm and force-marched her back to the cell.

"I think the door must be defective," Sarah said, dragging her feet and struggling just enough to inconvenience him. "All I did was lean on it a bit and it popped right open." Owen shoved her back in the cell, pulled the door to, and gave it an experimental rattle. "Or perhaps you didn't close it properly."

He looked up from his scrutiny of the lock to glare at her. "Well, it's closed properly now." He gave her a last dark look, then turned and walked back toward the living quarters.

Sarah waited a few seconds before popping the lock again and tiptoeing down the hall behind him. "But you never answered my question about the ladies' room," she said, rather loudly, when she was again right behind him.

He jumped even higher than he had the last time and spun around even faster. This time, she didn't hide her grin, and also didn't let him get a hand on her, dancing a step backward as he grabbed for her. He advanced on her, and she retreated down the hall, facing him and staying just out of reach.

"You got the polite search the first time, lady," Owen said. "That was obviously a mistake. This time, it's going to be more thorough."

Sarah's eyebrows went up. "Well. I'll consider that offer. But you're really not my type. And you're far too young."

Owen flushed beet red. "Just...hand over whatever it is you're using to open the lock," he said, thoroughly flustered.

Sarah backed into the cell through the open door, Owen bearing down on her. "Hairpins," she said. "You know what we ladies can do with hairpins."

"Right," he said disgustedly, continuing to advance toward her.

Sarah backed into the corner where the solid wall of the cell met the barred front panel. She bumped into the wall, widened her eyes as if she hadn't realized she was trapping herself, and held out a hand, palm forwards, to Owen. "Alright. Alright. You've got me. I'll give it to you." She reached into her left-hand pocket, pulled out the sonic lipstick, and held it in front of her.

He reached for it, and as he did, she quickly pulled the handcuffs out of her right-hand pocket and snapped one over his wrist. In the split second before he could react, she closed the other cuff over one of the bars of the cell.

"No!" Owen wailed. As he tugged on the cuffs in disbelief, Sarah quickly dodged behind him and pulled the pistol out of the waistband of his trousers, where he had stuck it after using it to threaten her.

Owen flattened himself against the bars and went very still, eyes glued to the barrel of the gun.

"Keys, please," Sarah said in a no-nonsense tone. He hesitated. "I don't like guns much, but I do know how to use them," she assured him, thumbing the safety off to prove her point.

"I am never going to live this down," Owen said with deep chagrin as he pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket and held it out to her.

"Toss it on the floor. Over there." She nodded toward the cell door. "And empty your pockets while you're at it. Just in case you have a spare key."

Owen tossed the contents of his pockets across the floor. Sarah kicked them further away from him, picked up the key ring, exited her cell, clanging the door shut, and quickly freed Galindor. She ran the few steps to the living quarters, found the lockdown switch, and flipped it to the "off" position. Then she ran back to Galindor. "Let's go," she said, taking him by the arm and pulling him down the hallway.

She opened the door to the broom cupboard and nearly pushed him in, following close on his tailfeathers and pulling on the disguised lift controls as soon as the door was closed. They rose slowly and smoothly, the lift bumping slightly when it reached ground level. Sarah opened the door a crack, peered up and down the dark corridor, then pulled Galindor out of the lift and set off rapidly toward the door where she and Martha had entered.

Caution born of years of danger-dodging stood her in good stead as she resisted the urge to pull the door open and bolt. Instead, she eased it open a crack to survey the outside scene.

There, parked in a pool of light under a security lamp, was a black SUV. The Asian girl from the festival was climbing out of the passenger side.

Sarah didn't wait to see who climbed out of the driver's side. "Back that way. Quick and quiet," she said in an urgent whisper to Galindor.

Together, they ran silently down the corridor to the stairwell. Sarah gestured to Galindor to stay put while she peered around the door frame and watched the two shadowy forms proceed down the hall to the disguised lift. As soon as they entered it and closed the door, she turned to Galindor. "Come on. Quick and quiet again."

They ran back down the hallway, past the lift, and to the doorway. One more step to freedom, Sarah thought. We're going to make it! She reached out to pull the door open, then jerked her hand back just in time to avoid losing it to the guillotine-like effect of an iron plate that shot out of the ceiling above the door and fitted itself into a slot at the bottom.

"Damn," she breathed.

"What is it, Sarah Jane?"

She shook her head. "They've locked down the building again. Which means they've found that young man we left in the cell. Which means they'll be back up here and after us..." She stopped, listened, heard the whirr of the elevator. "Now!" she cried. "Back this way!"

Again, they ran down the hallway to the stairwell, but this time they climbed the stairs. "Maybe we can find a place to hide up here," Sarah explained softly to Galindor. "And they'll think we got out before they locked the building down."

Galindor nodded, but when they opened the door off the stairwell onto the first story, they saw nothing but a wide open empty factory floor. There could have been some cupboard or cranny to hide in, but it was too dark to tell at a glance and they didn't have time to search. Sarah let the door swing to, and they continued to climb.

They ran out of stairs on the next floor. No choice but to try to find a hidey hole on this level. Or maybe a way to the roof? Sarah pushed open the door, saw another large, dark area just like the floor below. "You go that way," she whispered to Galindor, motioning to the left. "And see if you find a place to hide or anything that could be helpful." She started off to the right.

"What could be helpful, Sarah Jane?" Galindor asked as he obligingly moved to the left.

"Oh, I don't know," Sarah said. "Rope? A sledge hammer? A cricket bat?" Galindor cocked his head at her, and she saw his puzzled eyes shining in the darkness. "Just...anything out of the ordinary."

They circled the floor, meeting again at the opposite end. "Anything?" Sarah asked hopefully. Galindor shook his head, and Sarah sighed. "Nor I." She glanced frantically around the dim, echoing space, willing her eyes to pierce the gloom and find something, anything that would help them escape.

A very thin streak of light from the far wall caught her eye. "What's that?" she asked, already heading toward it.

When she reached the source of the dim light, she had to use her hands to figure out exactly what it was, but then a hopeful grin appeared on her face. She pulled the sonic lipstick out of her pocket, picked a setting, and beamed it at the slit of light.

"What are you doing, Sarah Jane?" Galindor asked softly.

"Trying to get this open," she said, changing the setting and this time running the sonic all around the steel plate that blocked the window. Or nearly blocked it, she thought. Apparently, the old building had settled crookedly, or the lockdown mechanism had lost its once-fine-tuning in the time since Canary Wharf, because the thin streak of light was the gap between the plate and the bottom of the sill, where it should have sealed itself and prevented their escape.

Another blast of pink sonics and she felt it loosening. "Help me slide this up," she said, slipping her fingers into the gap and pulling. Galindor slid his talons under the edge of the plate and with a firm heave, a blessed glass window appeared where a metal sheet had been.

Sarah peered out the window and couldn't believe their good luck. "A fire escape!" she said. "Perfect!"

The window opened readily, if creakily, to Galindor's strong ams.

"Let me try it first," Sarah said, climbing out. She stepped onto the fire escape, which gave a sickening lurch under her weight. In one quick movement, she hopped back through the window to safety.

She stuck her head out the window, craning her neck to see how the fire escape was attached to the wall. She saw that it had once been attached to staples that were set deeply in the bricks, but that the bricks were crumbling with age, and the ends of the staples were threatening to dissolve into rusty powder. Still, she thought. It looks as if we might be able to make it. If someone stayed up here, leaned out the window, and pulled the rickety metal structure in close to the building so it didn't slide off the staples...

She heard a sound behind them. "No time to lose," she said. "You go down. I'll hold it tight to the buidling. Be careful. Look for Martha when you get to the ground."

"What about you, Sarah Jane?" he asked.

"As soon as you're safely down, I'll follow. Don't think it would take us both. And I'm lighter, so I'm more likely to make it down without anyone having to hold it to the building. Try it--if it's too shaky, come back in."

Sarah leaned out the window, took a firm hold on the railing where it seemed sturdy, and pulled. Galindor gingerly stepped out the window and onto the platform. "What do you think?" she whispered urgently.

"I will attempt to descend," Galindor said, suiting his actions to his words and cautiously climbing down the frail structure.

Sarah could feel every step he took in the muscles and joints of her arms as she strained to keep the old fire escape steady. When it stopped bouncing, she looked down and saw that he had reached the ground. He turned and looked up at her.

She took a deep breath and started to climb out of the window again, totally focussed on the idea of gently tiptoeing down the rusty stairs, hugging the building to keep them stable.

"And just where do you think you're going?" A hand grabbed the back of her vest as the American accent registered.

She shrieked in surprise, shucked out of her vest in one smooth move, and launched herself out the window. She landed, hard, on the far side of the fire escape platform, her full weight plus the impetus of her jump pulling the structure away from the wall. It swayed perilously.

A long arm stretched out the window toward her. "Take my hand. Quickly," the now worried American voice said.

She reached for the offered hand, but had to shift her weight to do it, and the old fire escape wasn't having it. It lurched sharply, coming totally loose from its moorings to the building, swinging Sarah out beyond the reach of the helping hand.

She froze, willing the rest of the structure to hold long enough for her to creep down.

* * *

"Galindor! Over here!" Martha Jones was jumping up and down, waving at her alien friend as he stood at the bottom of the fire escape. He saw her and ran to her. She grabbed his forearms and squeezed, giving him a brilliant smile. "Are you okay? Where's Sarah?"

"I am unharmed," he said. "Sarah is following."

"The Doctor and Harry are on their way," Martha said with a relieved grin.

"And Uncle Roh?"

"He's fine," Martha assured him. "Waiting back at Sarah's in the TARDIS."

Just then, a tall slim figure in a long brown coat ran up to them out of the night. "Galindor!" the Doctor said with relief. "Are you alright?"

"I am well, Doctor, thank you."

The Doctor looked around and frowned. "Where's Sarah?"

Galindor turned back toward the building, looking up at the fire escape. The Doctor's eyes followed his, then widened. His mouth fell open as he saw Sarah's flying leap out the window, saw the fire escape lurch and swing loose from the building. "Oh God," he breathed. He turned to Martha, eyes wild. "Get him out of here. Now. Take him back to Sarah's." Then he turned and ran, faster than he'd ever run in all of his long lives, toward the crumbling fire escape.

* * *

Before Sarah could even try to make her way down the rusty stairway, the platform she was on lurched again as more staples pulled out of the crumbling brick wall. The next highest flight of stairs, unsupported, twisted and bent and the platform swung crazily away from the building. Sarah felt herself rolling up the railing as it tilted toward the ground. Just before gravity took over and launched her into thin air, she clutched desperately at the top bar. Its rough, rusty underside bit into her palms painfully, but she grimaced and held on.

The fire escape gave another sickening lurch. Sarah managed to cling to the railing as it dropped ten feet, then came to a sudden halt that did the joints in her arms and shoulders no good at all. The railing dug deeper into her hands and her grip became even more precarious as blood made the rusty metal slippery. She looked down, gauging her chances. If she could hang on, the crumbling fire escape might slow her fall. On the other hand, if she went down with it, she would be landing on a pile of crumpled, twisted metal, with no promise that she would not be impaled by a stray railing. Or two. She looked desperately over her shoulder to see what sort of terrain lay behind her. If she could swing herself, just a bit, and let go at precisely the right moment, just before the entire structure crumbled, she might be able to...

The structure bucked, swayed, and gave in to the pull of gravity. Sarah gritted her teeth against the pain in her hands, swung herself once, twice to gain momentum, and launched herself into the night.

* * *

The Doctor ran, his hearts in his throat, seeing the fire escape crumble, seeing Sarah dangling helplessly in mid-air. He ran faster, screaming her name, an unconscious scream of primal terror.

When she hit the ground, the air whooshed out of his lungs and he stumbled, going down on one knee for half a heartbeat, before forcing himself back to his feet and on, struggling for breath. He slid to a stop by her motionless body and stared down at her pale face. He reached toward her.

"Don't touch her!" The fierce command in the voice stopped him and he looked up. Harry was running toward them at full pelt. "Don't move her!"

"She's not breathing," the Doctor said, his own breath coming raggedly, as Harry slid to a halt by Sarah.

"God. No," Harry muttered through gritted teeth as he quickly checked her for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief as he found it, then looked up at the Doctor. "Hold her head steady."

The Doctor just stared at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

"Doctor," Harry said urgently. "Steady her head."

The Doctor blinked, nodded mutely, slid around, and placed one hand on each side of Sarah's head.

"Good," Harry said. "Now don't let her head move." He opened her mouth, checked her airway, then placed his mouth over hers and exhaled into it.

Sarah's chest rose, then fell as he let the air he'd forced into her lungs escape. It rose again, fell again, rhythmically, as Harry desperately breathed for her. After ten breaths, he paused, and he and the Doctor waited, an eternity, two eternities, to see if she would breathe on her own. Just as Harry bent his head to resume rescue breathing, Sarah gasped. He straightened and watched as she took another deep, wheezing breath, then rested his fingers gently on her throat, monitoring her pulse as her breathing slowly steadied.

Harry and the Doctor looked at each other. "You can let go," Harry said, and the Doctor glanced down at his hands, cradling Sarah's head, as if he had forgotten they were attached to him. Harry pulled out his mobile, looked at the screen and cursed. "Stay with her. Don't let her move!" he said urgently as he got up and hurried away in search of a signal.

"Right," the Doctor said softly. As Sarah's breathing had steadied, so had his, but he was still as pale as she was and his eyes were huge and stunned as he looked down at her. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Her eyelids fluttered, then opened, and her eyes slowly focussed on him. "Hi," she said softly, with a wan smile.

"Hi," he answered, equally softly. He blew out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and swallowed hard. "You took a hundred years off my life just now, _terza_," he said weakly.

"Sorry," she whispered. She closed her eyes and gave an involuntary groan. "Didn't do myself any favors either." She started to prop herself up on one elbow, but he quickly placed his hands on her shoulders and gently held her down.

"Don't move."

"Why?"

"Because Harry will kill me if I let you move," he said.

She looked up at him in bewilderment for a second, then laughed softly, then groaned as the laugh hit her ribs. "Well. Can't have that." She lay back and closed her eyes. After a moment, they opened again, wide. "Galindor?"

"Safe," the Doctor assured her. "Martha's taking him home."

"Thank God," she breathed and closed her eyes again.

"Ambulance is on the way," Harry said as he returned to Sarah's side. "How is she?"

Sarah opened her eyes and looked up at him. He sank down beside her as if all the starch had suddenly gone out of him. "Sarah Jane," he said, his voice limp with relief. He shook his head at her. "We really have to talk."

She laughed softly, then grimaced. "Now?"

"Before you pull another stunt like this," he said, looking down at her. "How do you feel? What hurts?" he asked, his voice gentling.

"Laughing mostly," she said. She tried to take a deep breath, then grimaced and turned it into a shallow one. "And breathing."

"Well. Don't stop," he said.

"I'll try not to," she said with a weak smile.

"Doctor," Harry said, looking up at the Time Lord for the first time. "Your coat."

The Doctor stared at him blankly for a moment, then shucked out of his long brown coat and carefully covered Sarah with it.

* * *

The Torchwood team had stood frozen at the window, watching the collapse of the fire escape and Sarah Jane's fall, powerless to do anything to stop either.

"Great. One of the Doctor's best friends. And I've just killed her," Jack said, horrified, as he saw Sarah lie, unmoving, after she hit the ground. "Owen, get down there and see if there's anything you can do. Fast."

Owen had been on his way before Jack had given the order, but he hadn't even reached the stairwell when his boss called him back. "Wait," Jack said, looking out the window.

He returned to Jack's side, frowning, and looked down at the ground below. A tall, slim man in a long brown coat was kneeling by the woman's body. "That's the guy from Cardiff," Jack muttered. Seconds later, they watched a second man run up to the fallen woman and start to administer rescue breathing. "Ah. Good. He obviously knows what he's doing," Jack said. They continued to watch until they saw that Sarah was breathing on her own.

Jack turned to his team. "Let's get out of here."

"Jack," Owen said, frowning. "We should..."

"I know we should," Jack interrupted. "But her friends seem to have it in hand. There's nothing more we can do here now except create confusion and distract the medical team that's obviously on the way. I say we beat it out of here and deal with the repercussions later. Through official channels." He turned, looked out the window again, and saw that the ambulance had arrived. A team of paramedics had placed Sarah in a neck brace and a back brace and were lifting her into the emergency vehicle. He shook his head disgustedly. "Assuming there are repercussions. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"That would be a first on this trip," Owen muttered and his boss threw him a dark look.

* * *

Neither the Doctor nor Harry had a thought to spare for Torchwood as they watched the paramedics lift Sarah into the ambulance. "Doctor Sullivan? You riding with us?" a young man asked as he prepared to shut the door.

"Yes," Harry said firmly, climbing up into the back of the vehicle. He turned and looked at the Doctor. "And so is...John," he said, holding a hand out to the Time Lord, who grasped it gratefully and swung himself up.

The doors closed. Sirens blared. Flashing lights pierced the night. Then all was quiet at the old factory, as three shadowy figures emerged from the ground floor and slunk to the black SUV that waited for them. They climbed in and drove off without a backward glance.


	12. Chapter 12

"Martha!" The Doctor stopped pacing the waiting room floor and strode over to Martha, a grateful smile on his face. She held out the white plastic tub she had brought from the TARDIS and he took it from her and tucked it under his elbow. "Thank you." With his free arm, he gave her a hug around the shoulders. "Thank you for getting Galindor home safely, too." His brows furrowed with concern. "How is he?"

"Fine," Martha assured him, wrapping one arm around his waist and returning the hug. "They didn't do anything to him but lock him up."

"Good."

"Mind, Sarah's going to have to restock her kitchen when she gets home," Martha added with a grin. Then her eyes clouded. "How is she?"

The Doctor didn't answer immediately. He put a hand on his chest, long fingers splayed, and bent his head. "I think she's going to be fine," he eventually said in a low voice. "Bit bruised and battered, but nothing serious." He paused again, as if consulting an inner voice, then grinned crookedly. "She's starting to lose patience with all the tests they're putting her through."

Martha looked at him oddly. "Are you reading her mind?"

"Not exactly," the Doctor said. "I just..." He breathed out a long breath. "...sort of know how she feels."

Martha widened her eyes and nodded slowly. "No official word yet though?" The Doctor shook his head. "Is Harry with her?"

The Doctor swallowed a chuckle before he answered. "Yes. He's...supervising."

"Ah," Martha said. "Surprising he hasn't been politely but firmly escorted out here to wait with you."

"Dr. Sullivan has been granted temporary consulting privileges in light of his...concern for the patient." A man in a white coat, carrying a clipboard, had entered the waiting room just in time to hear their last exchange. "And his position with MI5," he added with a subtle roll of his eyes. He smiled at the Doctor and Martha. "You are also with Ms. Smith?"

They nodded. "How is she?" Martha asked.

"Remarkably well, considering what Dr. Sullivan says happened," the doctor said. "Would you like to see her?"

"Yes," the Doctor said emphatically, and the doctor turned and led them out of the waiting room and down the hallway. When he reached the door of Sarah's ward, he looked in and grinned. "I'm sure Dr. Sullivan will be able to answer all of your questions." He waved them into the ward and, with a nod, turned and strode back up the corridor.

The Doctor and Martha entered the ward. Sarah was lying in a narrow bed, her auburn hair spread out over the pillow, her face nearly as pale as the sheets, her eyes closed. Harry was standing at the foot of the bed, reading her chart and scowling. The Doctor glanced at Sarah's face, then her bandaged hands, then scanned the room as if looking for something. He apparently found it in a tray of medical implements that was on a wheeled cart parked along one wall. He helped himself to a blunt-tipped pair of scissors, stepped back over to Sarah's bedside and perched carefully on the edge of the bed by her shoulder.

Sarah opened her eyes when she felt his weight on the bed and smiled up at him. He gave her a warm look, then picked up her right hand, cradled it in his left, and started cutting the bandages off.

"Here! What do you think you're doing?" A nurse in a starched white uniform walked into the ward just in time to see him undoing the doctors' work.

The Doctor didn't even look up. "Taking these bandages off."

"I see that," the nurse said, voice heavy with irony. "Why?"

The Doctor looked up at her then. "So I can put this salve on her hand," he said, tapping the top of the tub that Martha had brought, that was still under his elbow. He went back to cutting the bandages.

"What salve?" Harry asked.

"It's from Galindor's world," Martha answered for the Doctor.

Harry frowned. "How do you know it's safe for humans?"

"Because I've used it on her before," the Doctor answered.

"She got hurt up there?" Harry asked.

"Just a scratch," Martha assured him. "Nothing really. Galindor did it by accident. Didn't even know he had done it."

"Excuse me," the nurse interrupted. She had been following their conversation as if it had been a tennis match and now looked thoroughly bemused. She straightened her spine and fixed them with a firm, professional stare. "You people should not even be here. It is past general visiting hours. Family only at this time."

"Ah," Harry said. He looked down at Sarah, who raised her eyebrows at him, then lifted his eyes to the nurse. "I'm her brother."

"Hmph," the nurse said, then looked pointedly at the Doctor.

"Son," he said without a moment's hesitation. He held up the hand with the scissors in it and wiggled his fingers at her as best he could, given the hindrance of the scissors. "Hullo."

"Um-hm," the nurse said. Then she gave an even more pointed look at Martha. "And you?"

"Daughter," Martha said firmly. The nurse's eyebrows shot up and she looked back at the Doctor.

"Different fathers," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"Um-hm," the nurse said again, nodding her head knowingly. "Half an hour. That's it. Then you are all leaving. Ms. Smith needs to rest." She turned to Sarah, and all of the starch and firmness went right out of her. "You were on an investigation, weren't you, Ms. Smith?" she asked in a confidential tone.

Sarah smiled. "Exactly."

The nurse beamed. "I knew it. I knew they couldn't keep you down for long. Good on you, Sarah Jane!" She straightened back up and stiffened again, glowering at Sarah's ersatz family. "Half an hour." Then she turned and marched out of the room.

"Well, you still have one fan," Harry said with a grin. Sarah just rolled her eyes at him.

The Doctor had removed the bandages from Sarah's hand by this time, and, frowning, gently ran his fingertips over the abrasions they had covered. Then he opened the tub of salve, dipped out a fingerful, and carefully smeared it over her palm. Once all of the damage had been covered by a thick layer of the black ointment, he lay her hand, palm up, on the sheet and walked around the bed to repeat the procedure with her other hand.

"So, how are you...Mum?" Martha asked with a grin.

Sarah laughed, then winced. "Oh, don't do that. Ask Harry."

"She's way better than she has any right to be," Harry said firmly. The Doctor glanced up at him, then went back to tending to Sarah's hand. "I had the four best orthopedic men in the city lined up, ready to come in and put the pieces back together."

"And?" Sarah asked.

Harry studied her face. "And...I had to call them all and tell them to stand down. The lady only has two cracked ribs. And a lot of bruises." Harry shook his head and looked at the Doctor. "Does travelling in the TARDIS strengthen your bones?"

The Doctor tossed the bandages from Sarah's left hand in a nearby bin, then looked up at Harry. "My bones?"

"Anyone's bones. Anyone who travels with you."

The Doctor dipped up some salve and started applying it to Sarah's palm. "Could do, I s'pose. She's full of energy." When he had the abrasions covered to his satisfaction, he turned to her. "Can you sit up for me, _terza_?"

"_Terza_?" Harry repeated, puzzled.

"Sarah," the Doctor said quickly. "I said...Sarah." He put an arm under her shoulders and helped her to a sitting position, then carefully felt the back of her head. "Nice goose egg," he said admiringly.

Sarah laughed, then groaned. "Stop. Not fair."

The Doctor looked puzzled for a second, then apologetic. "Sorry. That was an accident." He dipped up a big glob of the black salve and applied it to the back of her head where the goose egg was.

"Doctor!" Harry protested. "In her hair?"

"Should we shave it?" the Doctor asked mildly.

"No," Sarah Jane said emphatically. The Doctor grinned, dipped up some more salve, gathered her hair in his free hand and held it up so he could rub the salve over the back of her neck. She sighed with relief. "That feels wonderful."

"Hmm," the Doctor said, peering at the back of her hospital gown. "How does this..." He pulled on one end of the bow that held the gown together at her neck, and it obligingly fell open. "Oh. That's handy." He repeated the procedure with the second bow, halfway down her back.

Martha, sitting on the foot of the bed and watching him, laughed. "You never saw a hospital gown before?"

"New to me," he said cheerfully. He dipped up another handful of salve, but before he could start applying it to Sarah's bruises, his face went very still. "Blimey," he said softly, staring at her back.

"What?" Harry stepped up quickly at the tone in the Doctor's voice and the look on his face. He, too, stared at Sarah's back. "Good God."

Sarah tried to turn her head to look at them, but her neck was still too sore to allow for much twisting. Instead, she gave Martha a puzzled look.

"I think they're looking at your scar," Martha said softly, apologetically.

"Oh," Sarah breathed, closing her eyes and shaking her head unhappily.

"They didn't know?" Martha asked. Sarah shook her head again.

"You did?" Harry asked, shocked.

Martha looked a bit defensive. "We took a bath together. Could hardly miss it."

"You what?" Harry asked, even more shocked.

"Us and a dozen hens, Harry. They have public baths on Galindor's planet." She gave Martha a grateful look. "She was too polite to mention it."

"I just figured if you ran with the Doctor, you had led an interesting life," Martha said.

"She didn't get that on my watch," the Doctor said softly. Sarah felt his long, cool fingers start smearing the black salve across her shoulders and sent him a wave of gratitude.

"Nor mine," Harry said, defensively.

"Do you two think I sit and knit when you're not around?" Sarah asked mildly. She felt the Doctor silently rubbing salve over the scar.

"Apparently not," Harry said after a moment. He took a deep breath. "Who shot you, Sarah Jane? And why didn't I know about it?"

Sarah closed her eyes and tried to just focus on the sweet relief of the salve and the Time Lord's cool fingers on her back. "You were undercover."

Silence filled the room for another long moment. "You could have told me. When I got back."

"Why?" she asked. "What would have been the point?" She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "'Thank God you're back Harry. I thought you were dead. And by the way, someone shot me while you were gone.' Is that what I should have said?"

Harry folded his arms over his chest and looked at her unhappily.

"Erm. Sarah," the Doctor interrupted. "You need to lie down and roll up on your side so I can do your..." He paused and his eyebrows furrowed. "...tailfeathers," he finally said.

Sarah laughed, and this time her ribs didn't seem to hurt so much. "I can do my own tailfeathers, thanks," she said, reaching out and taking the tub of salve from him.

"You did it for me," the Doctor protested.

"You what?" Harry asked.

Sarah gave Harry a sidelong glance, but answered the Doctor. "You were unconscious at the time."

The Doctor thought about it for a second. "Does that make a difference?"

"Yes," Sarah assured him. "Now, you just go around the other side of the bed with Harry." She shooed him on his way with a hand gesture and a smile.

"Must be a human thing," the Doctor muttered as he walked by Martha.

She grinned. "A human female thing, particularly," she agreed.

Sarah eased herself down on her right side, made sure the sheet was pulled up far enough to cover everything that needed covering, dipped a glob of salve out of the tub and started to slide her hand under the sheet. She glanced up to see a pair of brown eyes and a pair of blue eyes following her every move. Her hand froze in mid-air.

"You don't have to watch," she said.

Harry harrumphed and turned away but the Doctor just gave her a puzzled look. She shook her head at him fondly, and proceeded to apply the healing black salve to her bruised bum.

"You need me to do the backs of your legs?" Martha volunteered.

Sarah shook her head. "No, I think they're okay. I must have landed flat on my back."

Martha got up and came around the foot of the bed. "Well, let me do your gown up for you," she said.

"Thanks," Sarah said, sitting up.

"Can't wait to hear what Nurse Ratchett has to say about that black goo being all over the linens," Harry commented wryly.

"It won't be," Sarah said. "It doesn't rub off and it gets totally absorbed." She looked down at the palms of her hands, then showed them to Harry. "Look."

He frowned, took her proffered hands, and peered down at them. The black salve had, indeed, entirely disappeared, and the abrasions caused by the rusty metal fire escape railing had been replaced by new, pink, healing skin. Harry shook his head. "That's amazing."

"Oh my God." The Doctor and Harry looked up from Sarah's hands when they heard Martha's soft, astonished exclamation She looked back at them over Sarah's head, her deep brown eyes huge and round. "It's gone," she breathed.

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed and she twisted her head around to look up at Martha. "The salve? We were just saying..."

"No. I mean. Yes. The salve is gone. But that's not what I was talking about. I knew it would be absorbed." She craned her head around to look Sarah in the eyes. "I meant the scar," she said in a stage whisper.

Sarah's frown deepened as she processed what Martha had said, then she reached over her shoulder with one hand and tried to feel where she knew the scar was. She couldn't find it, so twisted her other arm around behind her and reached up, feeling smooth skin where old scar tissue had been. The frown disappeared and she laughed. She double-checked, feeling all over her back as if perhaps the scar had just relocated itself, but there was no trace of it. She laughed again, convinced this time. "Well. If I had known that salve would do that..."

"Those two would never have known," Martha said, nodding toward the Doctor and Harry.

"Mmm," Sarah agreed ruefully. Then her eyes widened and she reached for the tub of salve. She dipped up a small blob, enough to cover the tip of one finger, pulled the front of her gown out just far enough so she could peer down it, then reached in and smeared the salve over the small, round scar that marked where the bullet had entered her chest. She gave a satisfied sigh as Martha did up the ties in the back of the gown for her. Then the sigh turned into a yawn. A huge yawn. "Oh. Sorry," she said, putting a hand over her mouth a bit belatedly. "The nurse was right. I do need a rest."

The Doctor sat down on the bed next to her. "It's the salve."

"The salve is making her tired?" Harry asked.

The Doctor nodded. "It speeds up healing, but the energy has to come from the body."

"Right," Martha said, drawing out the word. She looked down at Sarah, then across the bed at Harry. "Rohstan told us that. Said it was why your immune system was compromised," she added, looking at the Doctor.

"Doctor," Harry said, sounding a bit exasperated. "Are you sure this was a good idea? Using that stuff on her?"

"Did you want her laid up for a fortnight with aches and pains and not able to breathe without hurting until her ribs healed?" the Doctor asked, his eyes stern.

"No, of course not," Harry said. "But I don't want her exhausted to the point where she gets ill, either."

"I'm taking care of that," the Doctor assured him tetchily.

Sarah's eyes had drifted closed during their exchange, and she was leaning heavily on the Doctor. "Sarah," he said, looking down at her. She didn't respond. "Sarah," he said again, gently but firmly.

"Mmm," she murmured in response.

"What have you had to eat today?"

She lifted her head from his shoulder and opened her eyes to peer at him muzzily. He nodded encouragement and she sighed and looked thoughtful. "Breakfast," she said shortly.

"Which was?"

She took another deep breath and started to keel over toward him again. "A long time ago," she said.

"Muffin and black coffee?" the Doctor suggested, catching her and propping her back up.

"Sounds like me," Sarah agreed, and the Doctor laughed softly.

"What else?"

Sarah sighed and thought as hard as her exhausted brain would allow her to think. "Had some chicken at the festival."

"You mean that one bite of my chicken?" Harry asked.

"Mmm hmm," she agreed. "Was going to get some of my own after the costume contest. But then..." She trailed off, leaning toward the Doctor again. This time, he put his arm around her shoulders and let her lean on him.

"Harry, do they have anything in Earth hospitals that's pure concentrated calories?" the Doctor asked.

Harry and Martha both nodded. "Sure."

"Easy to swallow?"

"It's a drink," Harry said. "So, yes."

"Good. Can you put your hands on some?"

Harry glanced at Martha. "Doctor Jones? Up for a requisitioning mission?"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Martha saluted him with a grin.

"Be right back," Harry said to the Doctor, and he and Martha hurried out of the ward.

"Sarah." Sarah didn't answer, except by burrowing her head into his shoulder. "Stay awake. Just a little longer." He bent his head and looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply and regularly. "Or...rest your eyes for a bit," he suggested, accepting defeat. He took a deep breath and sighed it out, then reached around with his free hand and stroked Sarah's hair. He closed his eyes, tipped his head toward hers until his cheek was resting on the top of her head, and pulled her tightly to him. No one was there to see his features relax, to see his hard-held control slip, to get a glimpse of the fierce tenderness with which he held Sarah Jane.

No one but Harry. He was coming back from his search for liquid nutritional supplements with his arms full of plastic bottles when he glanced through the doorway into the ward and was stopped in his tracks by the sight of the Doctor holding Sarah Jane.

He heard Martha come up behind him, but didn't turn. She looked up at him quizzically, then followed his gaze and saw the Doctor and Sarah. Her features fell, and she shifted the plastic bottles in her arms so she could give Harry's arm a sympathetic squeeze. He looked down at her then with eyes full of sorrow, and she compressed her lips and gave a small nod of understanding.

After a moment, Harry squared his shoulders and he and Martha walked into the ward together. The Doctor dropped one arm from around Sarah Jane and his face resumed its usual alert, intelligent, in-control expression.

"Sarah. Come on. Wakey-wakey," he said as he gently pushed her off his shoulder and into an upright position. She blinked a few times and wavered as he inspected the plastic bottles Harry and Martha presented to him, opening one, sticking his finger in it and then licking the liquid off his finger with a thoughtful expression. "Mm," he said, nodding approval. "Just what she needs." He turned to Sarah again, holding the bottle out to her. "Come on, Sarah. Drink this."

"Will it make me bigger or smaller?" she asked blearily.

"Neither," the Doctor said with a soft laugh. "Come back from Wonderland."

She focussed on the bottle with difficulty. "What is it?"

He pulled it back long enough to read the label. "Butter pecan."

Her eyebrows rose in approval. "Mmm," she murmured, then took the bottle and tried a swallow.

"Bottoms up," the Doctor said. Sarah emptied the bottle and handed it to him, then started to lie down.

"Ah, ah, ah!" The Doctor put a long arm under her shoulders and propped her up again. He took another bottle from the pile on the bed. "Chocolate. You like chocolate. Here. Chug-a-lug." He twisted off the cap and held the bottle out to her. She looked at it, then looked at him. He nodded encouragement and moved the bottle closer to her. She took it, tried an experimental swig, then drank it down. "Good girl."

She gave him a crooked grin and again started to lie down. "Not yet," the Doctor said, lifting her back to a sitting position. She gave him a sleepy frown as he twisted the cap off the next bottle. "Strawberry. Yum," he said enthusiastically, handing it to her. "_Skol_!"

She took the bottle but just looked at it for a long moment before tasting the contents. She pulled a face and tried to hand it back. "This one's not very nice," she said.

"Drink it anyway," he said softly. "You need the calories."

"Doctor," Harry said. "Each bottle has six hundred calories in it. Surely two..."

The Doctor shook his head and cut him off. "She's going to need all the energy she can get." He turned back to Sarah. "Come on then. Down in one."

She sighed, grimaced, and drank the pink liquid down, albeit much more slowly than the other two.

"Good," the Doctor said when she finally handed him the empty bottle. "Let's try the vanilla now." She made a sound halfway between a groan and a whimper and looked at him pleadingly. "For me, _terza_?" he asked softly, turning the full power of his deep brown puppy-dog eyes on her.

"Oh, that's just not fair," she said. He gave her a slow blink and tilted his head and she knew she was beaten. "Hand it over." She choked the white liquid down, swallow by swallow, and was extremely happy when she could finally hand him the empty bottle.

He reached for another. "Oh no," she said. "No more. I'm done." Her eyes opened wide and she quickly covered her mouth to stifle a ladylike burp.

The Doctor laughed softly at her expression, then shook his head. "OK. You did well. Lie down."

"That stuff may run out my ears if I do," she said, but she gratefully sank down onto the bed. Her eyes closed and exhaustion overtook her at light speed.

"Harry, she may need another blanket. Can you sort one?"

"Sure," he said. "If you think she needs it."

"I don't want her having to burn any energy just to stay warm," the Doctor said. Harry nodded, and headed out on another requisitioning mission. The Doctor stood up, went to Martha, and put his hands on her shoulders. "Martha. Thank you. For everything." He gave her a warm smile. "Now you need to go home to Sarah's and let Galindor and Rohstan know she's okay and that we'll see them in the morning." He squeezed her shoulders lightly. "And get some rest yourself."

"You think she'll be alright that fast?" Martha asked.

He nodded. "I'm going to make sure of it," he said. Martha nodded and turned to leave. "Oi," he called after her, and she looked back at him with her eyebrows raised. "Did you bring the perception filters?"

"Oh. Yes," she said, walking back to him while rummaging in her pocket. "Nearly forgot." She held the devices out to him and he took them gratefully.

"Perfect." She turned with a small wave and left the ward.

The Doctor hung one of the perception filters around his neck, then gently rolled Sarah up on her side and climbed into the narrow bed with her. He stretched himself out behind her, his arms wrapped around her, his chest pressed against her back. He bent his head and touched his forehead to the back of her neck, then took several deep breaths and went very still.

Harry walked through the door, a blanket in his arms. "Doctor!" he exclaimed, as he saw the Time Lord stretched out next to Sarah Jane, their bodies fitting together like spoons. "What are you doing?"

The Doctor didn't respond immediately. He finally raised his head slowly. "Giving her energy," he said, without opening his eyes.

"That's a new name for it," Harry muttered. The Doctor lowered his head and again pressed his forehead to the back of Sarah's neck. "Wait till that nurse sees this."

"She won't even notice," the Doctor said, his voice muzzy with concentration. "Perception filter."

"Didn't work on me," Harry said, putting the spare blanket down at the foot of the bed.

"You know I'm here," the Doctor said.

"But..."

The Doctor cut him off. "Harry," he said slowly, as if from a world away. "Do you mind? I need to focus."

Harry bit his lip and was silent for a moment. "On what?"

The Doctor lay quietly for so long that Harry decided he wasn't going to get an answer. "On giving her as much energy as she can handle," the Doctor finally said. "Without overdoing it. Don't want to burn her out. It's a fine line. Takes focus." He fell silent again.

Harry stood and stared at the two on the bed for long minutes, then, with a sigh, turned and started walking toward the door of the ward.

"Harry." The Doctor's voice stopped him. "You don't have to leave."

Harry turned back to face the two figures on the bed. "You seem to have everything in hand," he said quietly.

"Human energy would help her," the Time Lord said in that same distant, distracted voice.

"I don't know how to give her energy."

"Of course you do."

Harry pulled a face. "OK. How?"

"Sit by the bed. Hold her hand."

"That's giving her energy?"

"Mmm hmm," the Doctor murmured. "Isn't that what you humans do when someone's sick or injured?" Harry nodded, even though the Time Lord's eyes were closed.

"That nurse will kick me out," Harry said. "Surprised she hasn't already."

The Doctor raised one arm, fished in his pocket, pulled out the other perception filter and held it out in Harry's direction. Harry took it and the Doctor wrapped his arm around Sarah and went still.

Harry looked at the perception filter, then looked at the Doctor. Then his gaze lingered on Sarah Jane's sleeping face. He hung the perception filter around his neck, pulled a chair up to her bedside, sat, and took her hand in both of his.


	13. Chapter 13

"Any more sausage?" Sarah asked, squeezing in behind Harry and peering around him at the stove top.

"Sarah!" he said, looking at her in shock. "You've had two servings already."

"I'm hungry," she said plaintively.

"I see that." He filled a plate and handed it to her. "That black salve had better neutralize cholesterol."

"I'm sure it does," Sarah said, sitting down at her place at the table and digging in.

"What is cholesterol, Harry Sullivan?" Rohstan asked.

They were all gathered in Sarah's kitchen the next morning, enjoying a full English breakfast. Thanks to Martha's warning, Sarah, Harry and the Doctor had stopped at Tesco's on the way home from the hospital and stocked up on everything. Sarah had quickly taken a shower and changed clothes when she got home, coming back to the kitchen to find Harry playing chef. Now, he took the chair next to Rohstan and started explaining cholesterol and all of the things medical science thinks it does in and to the human body. Rohstan listened attentively, asking questions and nodding periodically.

"I still can't believe they let you out so soon," Martha said to Sarah, watching her clear her plate.

"They didn't want to," Sarah said, holding her hand over her mouth as she chewed. She swallowed, then took a sip of coffee. "They wanted to run the tests they ran last night all over again before they'd even consider discharging me."

"You weren't having that," Martha said, shaking her head, a statement, not a question.

Sarah raised her eyebrows emphatically. "I offered to do cartwheels down the corridor to show them how good I felt."

Martha laughed. "Did you?"

"No, apparently the threat was enough," Sarah said with a big grin.

"What is a cartwheel, Sarah Jane?" Galindor asked.

"Oh, it's a thing where you..." She stuck her arms out and bent sideways at the waist to show him the beginnings of a cartwheel, then straightened back up. "Never mind. I'll show you later. Outside."

"You really do feel up to doing cartwheels?" Martha said, an incredulous grin on her face.

"I feel better than I've felt in years," Sarah said. "That salve is amazing."

Harry broke off his conversation with Rohstan long enough to look over at her when he heard her comment. He searched her face for a minute, then looked at the Doctor.

"She knows," the Doctor said with a smile.

"I always knew you two were amazing," Sarah said, giving them both warm smiles. "Thanks." The smile turned into a mischievous grin and she sang to them, to the tune of Bob Hope's theme song, _Thanks for the Memories_. "Thanks...for the energy..."

Harry groaned and the Doctor snickered.

"Fine," she said with a mock-indignant huff. "See if I sing to you anymore."

"Nunks was the guiding member of the research team that initiated the black salve," Galindor said, looking at his uncle with pride shining in his eyes.

Sarah's jaw dropped. "Really?" Rohstan nodded modestly. "That's wonderful. Brilliant! Thank you!" She beamed at him for a moment, then her face grew serious. "Do your people just use it when they're injured? Or do they take a dose of it on a regular basis to prevent degenerative diseases?"

"We are experimenting with its use in prophylactic fashion even now, Sarah Jane," he answered. "The energy issue is a concern." He glanced at the Doctor. "Not everyone has a Time Lord available to supplement his or her personal energy when required."

"Just not enough of me to go around," the Doctor said with a cheeky grin, leaning back in his chair and resting his mug of tea on his midriff. .

"I would love to tour a hospital on your world," Harry said to Rohstan.

The scientist looked at him quickly, his eyes wide. "I would love to have you come to our world, Harry Sullivan. To show our people that a male can be a doctor."

Harry's eyebrows went up. "You don't have male doctors?"

Rohstan shook his head. "I desired strongly to pursue a career as a practicing physician. I attempted repeatedly to overcome the prejudice against males in the profession. But in the end, it was not permitted. I became a medical researcher instead as the nearest approximation to my desired goal."

"That's not right," Harry said, his eyebrows furrowed.

"If you could come to our world, and show people that other races allow their males to become physicians, it might assist in changing our peoples' ways," Rohstan said earnestly.

"You could be a guest on my vid program," Galindor chimed in, his crest fluffing with excitement. "And on the medical program that is also screened in our studio." He looked around the table. "Remember, Martha Jones? You were on it before. You and Sarah Jane." Martha nodded, and Galindor went on, getting more and more excited as he did. "You can _all _be guests on my program this time. I will have the highest viewer count ever!"

"And we could show you the attractions of our world, as you have done for us. You saw nothing but the research center and the devastation caused by the earthquake and tidal wave on your previous visit," Rohstan added.

The humans all looked at each other thoughtfully. "Harry," Sarah said tentatively. "You really want to go?"

"Why not?" he said.

"Well. You didn't even want to go on a lunch date last time you were invited along for a trip in the TARDIS."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "That was then. This is now." He tipped his head down and looked at her out of the tops of his eyes. "Or is it just a woman's prerogative to change her mind?"

Sarah had to grin at that. "Not at all. Equal opportunity prerogative."

All eyes turned to the Doctor. "What?" he said, taken aback by the sudden attention.

"Well, no one's going anywhere without you," Harry said.

"Are you tired of us treating the TARDIS like a shuttle bus?" Sarah asked with small worried frown.

He pooched out his lips and looked thoughtful. "Have to get Galindor and Rohstan home anyway. No problem with an extra passenger."

"How about the return trip?" Sarah asked with a grin. "I don't think Harry wants to relocate permanently."

"Oh. You never know," Harry mused. "Might be a nice place to retire."

"Harry!" Sarah exclaimed. She gave him a shocked look. "Are you feeling alright?"

He looked at her and his face grew sober. "Nothing much holding me on Earth these days," he said softly.

"What about Thor?" Sarah asked.

Harry grinned at the thought of his big black Labrador. "He could come along." He turned to Rohstan. "Are dogs allowed on your planet?"

Rohstan's eyebrows furrowed. "Are dogs allowed to do what on our planet, Harry Sullivan?"

"Just...to be there," Harry asked.

"We do not have dogs," Galindor said. "But your companion would be welcomed."

"Labs _are _bird dogs," Harry said, thinking out loud. He glanced at Galindor and Rohstan. "Maybe I'd better get Dan and Lucy to watch him for a few days."

"So you _are _coming back," Sarah said.

Harry nodded. "For now." He turned to the Doctor. "That is, if I can hitch a ride."

The Doctor was looking at Sarah. "Are you coming, Sarah Jane?"

Sarah met his eyes and saw the carefully veiled hunger in their brown depths. Her lips curled slowly into a knowing and willing smile. "I'd love to," she said softly.

A low hum suddenly underscored the background noise in the kitchen. Martha swiveled her head, trying to localize the sound. "What's that?"

The Doctor's eyes went wide and he cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me," he said, rising quickly and darting out the kitchen door.

Sarah ducked her head to hide her grin.

"What got into him?" Harry asked, perplexed.

Martha shook her head slowly. "No idea. Hope his cold isn't coming back." She looked around the kitchen. "What was that humming noise?"

"Oh, the refrigerator does that sometimes," Sarah said dismissively. "Nothing to worry about." Then she ducked her head again and grinned some more.

* * *

Galindor whipped out his mobile comm unit as soon as they landed on his home planet, and before they had time to do more than admire the scenery, a studio vehicle was picking them up. They all piled in except Rohstan, who wanted to visit his family.

"I have not been planetside since before the geological disturbance on the moon," he said as they temporarily parted company. "I wish to see my hens and chicks and grandchicks much more than I wish the populace to see me," he added with an affectionate sidelong glance at his nephew. "And as you will be busy, I will coordinate our sightseeing itinerary."

There were some tense moments when the studio wanted another interviewer, a bigger name than Galindor, to host, but Sarah, Harry, Martha and the Doctor made it plain that they wouldn't participate if anyone besides Galindor did the interview. Galindor was in spasms of joy when the studio heads quickly capitulated. "Oh, this will be my most glorious opportunity! My celebrity will escalate! I will graduate from the moon to the home world vid screen!"

The makeup hens on the home world had no more idea what to do with humans than the ones on the moon had done. Sarah and Martha, as they had before, helped themselves to the products on the counter and made themselves up. Then they had great fun trying to get some makeup on Harry, who ducked, dodged, and protested, laughing the whole time.

Meanwhile, the hens circled the Doctor, clucking to themselves. "Your fronds stick up properly. Not like the others," the lead makeup hen said. "We can enhance them and attempt to make you look more normal." The Doctor rolled his eyes at that and grinned at the humans, but allowed the hens to work with his hair. They surrounded him, clustering so close that he disappeared from view. Martha and Sarah exchanged wide-eyed glances, then shrugged their shoulders and grinned. When the hens eventually stepped back to show off their handiwork, the grins grew broader.

The Doctor's normally spikey hair had been enhanced with spikey brown feathery extensions. He checked out his reflection in the long mirror above the makeup counter, turning his head this way and that, feeling the extensions gingerly with his long fingers.

"Fluff it," the lead makeup hen commanded.

"Pardon?" the Doctor responded, widening his eyes and leaning toward her.

"Can you not fluff your crest?" one of the other hens asked.

"No, I'm not...Just with my..." He tried to run his fingers through his hair to demonstrate how he usually fluffed it, but the extensions were too stiff and placed too close together. "No. Can't fluff my crest," he concluded mournfully.

"Hmm. Pity," the lead hen commented. The Doctor rolled his eyes at his companions again, and they all sniggered.

Martha and Sarah walked around the Doctor, checking out his new do from all angles. "It looks nice," Martha said loyally.

"Very you," Sarah said, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

Once Galindor was made up and suitably togged in a heavily-embroidered neon-crimson kilt from the studio costume department, Sarah took him aside for a quiet word.

"Galindor, please don't tell them about Torchwood abducting you," she asked.

Galindor's crest rose and he blinked at her. "But...Sarah Jane...that is the adventure!"

She sighed. "But it makes us look so...uncivilized."

"No one expects you to be civilized," he said enthusiastically. "You're aliens!"

"Hmm. Thanks," she said with a twist of her lips.

Galindor knew his audience. The tale of his kidnapping and jailing, and Sarah's rescue of him, had them transfixed. The applause and hoots and caws were deafening, and Galindor had to gesture to Sarah to stand up and acknowledge the acclaim. She did, somewhat reluctantly, stand and take a quick bow, followed by an even quicker courtesy.

The interview was followed by a hastily-arranged reception, complete with tables laden with local delicacies. Sarah was thrilled that her metabolism was still running fast, thanks to the black salve, and tucked in with enthusiasm.

"Mmm," she said, munching on a mealworm. "These are better than I remembered." She speared one with a toothpick and held it out to Harry. "Try one."

He raised an eyebrow at the enormous worm and then gave Sarah a disbelieving look. "You're just still hungry," he said. "Hunger is the best sauce."

"No, actually," Sarah said, chewing thoughtfully. "It's more teriaki-ish. Or...-esque."

Everyone who was anyone in the entertainment industry had hurried over to the impromptu welcome for the aliens and wanted to meet them. While the reception was still in full swing, word came down that they wanted to do a second interview, in prime-time with a call-in feature where the audience could ask the aliens questions. The four of them exchanged glances, then looked at Galindor's hopeful face and quickly agreed to do it.

"Do we need to get an agent?" Harry asked, straight-faced, only breaking into a grin when the girls both gave him an incredulous stare.

The Tale of Torchwood, as Sarah was starting to think of it, was even more dramatic the second time around. It tended to overshadow the news that human males were allowed to be doctors, although Sarah tried to send the conversation in that direction at every opportunity. There were a few calls from males who had aspirations to a career as a physician, but mostly the callers wanted to thank Sarah for saving Galindor from the evil humans.

"Oh, they weren't evil...exactly," Sarah tried to explain. "Just...misguided. Afraid."

Afraid of their Galindor? The audience couldn't buy that at all. No, they had to be evil aliens, and Sarah and her friends were the good aliens who defeated them, and that was that.

"I hope Torchwood never comes here," Harry said under his breath during a commercial break. "They'd be lynched on sight and with no idea why."

"Lynching's too good for them," Sarah said, her eyes flashing.

"I'll take care of them," Harry assured her. "When we get back."

Sarah raised her eyebrows at that, but before she could ask what he had in mind, lights flashed on the camera to indicate they were coming back from the break, and the show went on.

After the interview, a small brown hen handed Galindor a sheaf of papers. He furrowed his brows as he looked through them, then started cluckling with delight. "We are invited to the homes of every prominent family in the city," he crowed.

"Tonight?" Sarah asked, sounding a bit more plaintive than she'd meant to.

The others all looked at her. "You okay?" Harry asked, quick concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine," she said. "It's just...well, it's been a pretty full day already."

"Sarah Jane, you do not have to participate if you do not wish to," Galindor said, his eyes mournful.

"Oh, no," Sarah protested. "That wasn't what I....oh..." Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. "Party on!" she said gamely.

And they did. They were in and out of more luxurious homes, fed more delicacies, and introduced to more glittering feathery folk than Sarah could possibly keep track of, even if she had been taking notes.

"You sure you're okay?" the Doctor asked quietly as they headed from one party to the next. They were sitting in the back seat of the studio transport, and the Doctor had his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

"You mean aside from my head whirling?" she answered, closing her eyes and lowering her head to rest on his shoulder.

"That's the drink they gave us at that last house," Harry said. "Don't know what it was, but it had a definite kick."

"That was fermented glarenda juice, Harry Sullivan," Galindor said from the front seat, turning to look at his guests. "First vintage. Best of the crop." He smacked his beak. "Premiere stuff!"

When the vehicle stopped this time, it was in front of a much more modest home. They all climbed out and stretched, then smiled as Rohstan appeared in the doorway.

"Come in, my friends, come in," he said.

The house was full of family, plain folk compared to the aristocracy they'd been hob-nobbing with all night. Sarah sighed with relief and sank down on a long wooden bench. "This is more my speed," she said to Martha, as she sat down by her side.

"Me too," Martha admitted. She smiled at a small chick who was bashfully clinging to one of the hens, but staring at the aliens with wide eyes. "The little ones are so cute!"

A slightly taller chick worked up the courage to approach them, and before they knew it, there was a chorus of youngsters of various sizes, standing in front of them and staring at them with big eyes.

"Did you really save Cousin Dor's life?" one asked timidly.

"We love Cousin Dor," a little one added earnestly.

Sarah smiled broadly, and they all shrank back a bit. She remembered that smiling wasn't the clear signal it was among humans to creatures with beaks, so she relaxed her face and just tried to smile with her eyes. "So do we," she said.

That was all it took. The chicks piled on the bench on both sides of them and leaned against them, one crawling into Sarah's lap then sitting up and looking directly into her face. It reached up with a little taloned hand and touched Sarah's mouth and nose curiously. The talons weren't sharp. They felt soft, like a plush toy version of what they would grow into. Sarah felt more little hands patting and ruffling her hair and had to fight not to grin. She glanced over at Martha and saw she was getting the same intimate yet totally unselfconscious examination.

"Chicks! Chicks!" One of the hens glanced over and noticed what the little ones were up to. She hurried over and picked up the chick from Sarah's lap. "I am so sorry. They should know better than to bother guests."

"They aren't bothering us," Martha said, reluctant to give up the one who had crawled into her arms. "They're adorable."

"They're just curious," Sarah said. "That's a good thing."

The hen gave them a relieved and grateful look. "I am Talienda," she said. "Rohstan's daughter." She bowed her head. "Welcome to our family home. Thank you for your hospitality and friendship to our father and cousin."

Sarah and Martha nodded back, hoping that was the right response. "Thank you for having us," Martha said.

Sarah sighed. "This is such a nice change from the other parties we've been to tonight."

Talienda knelt effortlessly in front of them. "Cousin Dor is in his glory at those parties," she said quietly, with a twinkle in her eyes.

Sarah couldn't help grinning at that. "We noticed."

"Sarah. Martha. Come look at this."

They, with some difficulty and with Talienda's help, worked free of the pile of chicks, promising to come back for another visit later, and joined Harry and the Doctor at the other side of the room.

"It's like Google Earth but in 3D," Harry said, admiringly, indicating what looked like a globe.

Rohstan was holding one hand a few inches out from the surface of the globe, and a three-dimensional image popped up, showing the terrain under his hand as if they were looking at it from a low-flying helicopter. "We must visit the Cairtanghians," Rohstan said, obviously continuing a discussion he and the Doctor had been having before the girls joined them.

"Looks amazing," the Doctor agreed. "What's this?" He held his long hand over another spot on the globe and watched as it popped into 3D.

"Ah, that is another location we must show you," Rohstan said. "An ancient site where our ancestors lived."

They roamed the world virtually for an hour, coming up with an itinerary that echoed their globe-hopping day on earth. The Doctor shrugged off all concerns that they were imposing on him. "Please," he said, holding up a hand to still their concerns. "This is what I live for. Seeing alien worlds. And getting a guided tour by a native--who happens to be a friend," he added, giving Rohstan a warm look. "...just makes it perfect."

"Have you had any chance to play space tourist yet, Martha?" Sarah asked.

"Not really. Been all save-the-universe and run-from-the-monsters, so far," Martha said ruefully.

Sarah chuckled. "Well. There is a lot of that." She looked over at the Doctor, who gave her a sidelong glance. "But playing space tourist is the best. Make sure he takes you to Oncabria for the Fair." Martha raised her eyebrows interestedly. "Oooh. The things on offer."

Galindor was antsy to continue party-hopping, but the humans and the Doctor decided it was time to call it a night. "You would be very welcome to stay here, my friends," Rohstan offered.

"Thank you, but I think we'll stay on the TARDIS," the Doctor said, glancing around and getting nods of agreement from his companions. "We have beds there."

"Ah yes. I nearly forgot that you do not perch," Rohstan said with a cluckle.

The studio vehicle dropped them off back at the TARDIS and headed out again with Galindor. The four weary space tourists gratefully entered the Doctor's homely old blue box and climbed the ramp.

"Harry, I think Martha has your old room," the Doctor said, circling the console and checking readings. "But the TARDIS will organize something for you. Maybe Sarah's old room."

Harry stopped and looked at Sarah. "Where's Sarah going to be then?"

The Doctor looked up with wide innocent eyes. "Oh. Well. I thought she should spend the night in the zero room."

"I'm fine," Sarah protested. "I wish you two would stop..." She broke off as she caught the look in the Doctor's eyes.

"You did spend last night in hospital," he said, his voice a bit husky. "And we had a big day today. And another planned for tomorrow. A little extra healing couldn't hurt."

"No. It couldn't," Sarah agreed softly, feeling her breath catch in her throat.

"There's no furniture in the zero room," Martha said with a frown. "He levitates when he's in there." She looked at Sarah. "Can you levitate?"

Sarah widened her eyes and pooched out her lips. "Used to be able to. May be a bit rusty after all these years."

"It'll come right back to you," the Doctor said dismissively.

"Like riding a bike," Harry said ironically.

"Exactly," the Doctor agreed, ignoring the irony.

"Well. Goodnight all," Harry said with a heavy sigh. Martha echoed his goodnight and they left the console room together. The Doctor gave Sarah a long look, then turned on his heel and strode out of the console room without a word.

She followed him at a trot, trying to keep up with his long stride. He still got to the zero room before she did and was standing, hands in pockets, legs apart, facing the doorway, when she arrived. He took one look at her and the sound of his purr echoed off the bare walls of the small room.

He groaned, rolled his eyes and turned his head away from her. "Sarah Jane Smith. What have you done to me?"

"Nothing," she said, closing the door behind her and leaning back on it. "Yet," she added softly with a smile that promised that was about to change.

He made a low strangled noise in the back of his throat and his purr grew louder. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?" he asked.

She shook her head, grinning happily. "Not a clue."

"Well, it is," he assured her. "It's like...you've turned me back into a time teenager. No control. Start purring just looking at someone you fancy."

"Human boys have a similar problem, I hear," Sarah said, a twinkle in her eyes. "But it's a bit easier to hide."

"Hmm," he murmured. "Lucky them."

"Sounds like the voice of experience talking."

He gave her a pointed look. "Had to change sections three times to get through one class in the academy. Couldn't focus on the lecturer for...a certain classmate."

Sarah grinned. "And she knew?"

He rolled his eyes. "_Everyone _knew." He blew out of a huff of air. "Humiliating."

"Mortifying," she agreed seriously.

He looked at her directly then, and Sarah felt the impact to her toes. All the embarrassment vanished from his features and was replaced by a brilliant joyous smile. "Come here."

She didn't need a second invitation. She ran to him, jumping into his arms, her momentum spinning them around as they both laughed happily. Then he tipped backwards and his feet came off the floor and they were floating three feet up, wrapped in each others' arms, still spinning, but now like the hands of a clock on a horizontal dial.

Sarah felt as if she'd leaped straight into his hearts.


	14. Chapter 14

"Sarah? Sarah."

Sarah. She knew that name. From somewhere. She struggled for a minute to place it, but couldn't spare the mental energy. Oh, bother. It couldn't be all that important. She was where she wanted to be, safe, happy. Oh, so happy. Home. Finally, finally. Home. Where she belonged. Where she had always belonged. She gave a mental shrug and went back to what she was doing.

"Sarah. Come up for air."

Now she felt...what was that? Something moving. Something touching her, rubbing her...her back. Right. Her body. She had a body. Now she remembered. She laughed mentally. Once upon a time...she thought she _was _that body.

"Come on, _terza_. We need to take a break."

It was the voice that finally reached her. The beloved voice. The hand stroking her back helped center her. But it was the voice that called her back.

He was still purring, but it was a low, satisfied rumble now, like the glowing coals of a once-roaring fire. She propped herself up on her forearms on his chest and blinked down at him. "I was in the middle of something."

A laugh bubbled up out of him, a joyous, delighted laugh. "I know. You were in the middle of me."

She shook her head, still reorienting herself. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, no." He beamed at her, reached up and gently pushed her hair off her face. "Not at all."

"I wasn't too...inquisitive?"

He grinned. "No." Another one of those joyous laughs shook his slim frame. "After all, if you choose to bond with an investigative journalist, you'd better expect to be investigated. Thoroughly."

Sarah blew out a breath and rolled off him, lying on her back, letting her arm sprawl out to the side. "So what's your excuse?"

"Do I need one?" he said, sounding startled. She smiled and shook her head. He grinned back. "I'm just a professional nosy parker. Always have been. Shouldn't surprise you." He was silent for a moment. "You okay?"

She rolled her head to the side to see him looking at her. He glanced down, and she followed his glance, then raised her eyebrows. She was lying on her back on thin air three feet above the floor, her stretched-out arm supported by nothingness. "I guess it does come back."

"Like riding a bike," he said, smiling.

She floated closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "So. Why did you want to take a break?"

He took a breath before answering. "I didn't," he said with a crooked grin. "Oh, believe me. I didn't." Then he looked at her tenderly. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were getting in awfully deep. Didn't want you losing yourself." She didn't answer, at least not in words. "We're in unexplored territory here, _terza_. A Time Lord and a human bonding." She rolled her head to the side to look in his eyes and he grinned. "You do seem to have a strong natural aptitude for it. Yes," he agreed. He ruffled her hair gently. "The only thing you don't seem to have a talent for is doing things half way."

"Never have been good at that," she admitted.

"One of your best qualities." He took a deeply relaxed breath. "But. If you were a Time Lady. You'd have a natural instinct for...well, for putting up boundaries. Protecting yourself."

"From you?" she said, softly, rolling toward him and resting a hand on his chest. "I don't need to protect myself from you."

The smile left his face, and she saw a muscle jump in his cheek. She wrapped both arms around him--very easily done when floating in mid air--and gave him a squeeze. "How long have we been in here? I've lost all track of time exploring you."

"You have, haven't you?" he said, his face lighting with interest. "And I finally get that now. Never could figure out how anyone could lose track of time."

"It's easy if you're not a Time Lord," she said.

"I saw that."

"So. How long till morning?"

"How long do you want it to be?" he asked, giving her a cheeky grin. She just raised her eyebrows at him. "I put a temporal lock on the zero room. I was not about to be interrupted this time. Not till I'd had a chance to bond with you properly."

She laughed softly. "So, how long can we stay in here until they start to wonder what happened to us?"

"Well," he said. "I couldn't actually stop time. Well. I could. Actually. But it takes more energy than it's worth. And the repercussions can be...well...let's just say getting it started again can be something of a challenge. So I just slowed it down."

"How much?"

He gave her a languorous grin. "A lot."

She ducked her head and gave him a pointed look. "How long could we stay in here and still have it be just eight hours later when we come out?"

He pooched out his bottom lip and mused a moment. "Oh. Weeks. Maybe months."

She raised her eyebrows and laughed. "We're going to get hungry." She glanced around the small room. "And I don't see anything vaguely resembling a loo in here."

"We can nip out to take care of necessities," he said. "We'll lose a little bit of time, but not much. If we're quick."

"Mmm," she said lazily. "Well. I do see how you could spend a whole honeymoon doing this now. Wasn't sure after the first go. But then...that was just dipping a toe in it, wasn't it?" He nodded. She propped herself up on an elbow and looked down at him. "You really _are _bigger on the inside."

"Of course. So are you."

"Really?"

"Infinitely." He frowned at her. "Can you doubt it?"

"Mmm," she said. "Not anymore. You went places in me where I didn't know I had places."

"Are you okay with that?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in a small concerned frown..

"Oh. Of course." She stared at him, struggling to find words to express the wonder of bonding with him.

His features relaxed into a warm smile. "Don't worry. I get it."

She laughed softly. "This bonding stuff cuts down on the need for conversation."

"Sometimes," he said, his lips curling. He put an arm under her, rolled her back on top of him and held her tightly. "Sometimes it's still nice to have a right old natter. Keeps you grounded."

She relaxed in his arms, closing her eyes and pressing her ear to his chest, feeling his hearts beating. "I don't want to be grounded. I want to get lost in you," she murmured.

He put his hands on her sides and lifted her an inch above him, so she had no choice but to look down at him. "That's what worries me."

She frowned down at him, then smiled reassuringly. "It's just a figure of speech."

"Mmm," he murmured, letting her back down. "It used to be a figure of speech. Before you bonded with a Time Lord."

She propped herself up on his chest and looked down at him. "Could that really happen?"

"Dunno," he said. "Not for sure. I just want to be careful. Human. Time Lord. Never been done before. Shouldn't even be possible." He smiled up at her, his eyes glowing. "Have I mentioned how amazing you are?"

"Once or twice," she said, grinning down at him.

"Oooh," he said, scanning her face with interest. "Now there's something."

"What?"

He looked as though he were listening intently. "You do know how to form boundaries. There's one right there."

"Where?"

"Right there."

Sarah looked inside herself to where he was mentally pointing. "Oh. That." He probed the boundary gently. "Ooh," she said, laughing. "That tickles!"

"Sorry," he said, smiling. "Just checking." His eyebrows furrowed over mischievous brown eyes. "You want to ask me a question. But...something's holding you back."

She felt her face grow warm, and she rolled her eyes away from his. "That's because it's silly."

"Silly is good," he said mildly. "I like silly."

"And very human," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Human is good," he said, his lips curling. "I like human."

She looked down at him, her lips compressed, and he raised his eyebrows in encouragement.

"Do Time Lords kiss?" she finally blurted out.

His eyebrows shot up. "Do you mean, do I know how to kiss? Or..."

"I mean, is kissing part of a Time Lord's...intimacy rituals?"

His eyes grew pensive. "No. Not part of an...intimacy ritual."

She felt certain there was more to that answer. "Then what?"

"You're not going to like it." She waited. He sighed and went on. "It's a part of our..death ritual."

"Ew," she said, lifting herself a bit higher off his chest and frowning down at him.

He nodded. "When someone you...care for...dies, it's traditional to kiss the body on the forehead. As a farewell."

"Mmm," she said, settling back down on his chest. "Sorry I asked."

He ran a hand gently down her back. "Why _did _you ask?"

"Oh," she said, her head resting on his chest, not looking at him. "I just. From time to time. Get an urge to...kiss you."

"Now that's fascinating," he said enthusiastically.

She propped herself back up. "Is it?"

"Yes. Oh, this is brilliant. Maybe you can explain this to me."

"What?" she said, laughing in spite of herself.

"Why so many humans seem to want to kiss me these days."

"Do they?".

"Yes. Even Jackie," he said, pulling a disgusted face.

"Jackie? Rose's mum?" He nodded. "On the cheek?"

He widened his eyes and shook his head. "Right on the mouth."

"Whoa," Sarah laughed.

"This sort of thing never used to happen to me," he said. He rolled over so they were both on their sides in mid-air, facing each other. "Do you think it has something to do with this incarnation?"

She reached out and gently traced the line of his eyebrow, then let her finger travel down his cheek to his full lower lip. "Could do," she said.

"Did you ever feel the urge to kiss me before? You know. In my other bodies."

She took a deep breath and thought about that for a minute. "Sometimes. Yes. I wondered...what it would be like."

"Why didn't you ask?"

"Ask you to kiss me?" she said, laughing, her eyebrows raised.

"Why not?"

She shook her head at him. "You really don't understand about humans and kissing."

"Haven't got to that part of you yet. Give me time." He grinned. "Unless you put a big ol' boundary around it."

Sarah gave him a thoughtful smile, then shook her head. "No. I wouldn't do that." She arched her eyebrows at him. "But who are all these people who've been kissing you? Besides Jackie Tyler."

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "Well. I s'pose it hasn't been all that many. It just takes me by surprise whenever it happens so it seems like a lot."

"Name names," she said, in a mock threatening tone.

"Well. There was Cassandra."

"Mmm. And what was she like?"

He wrinkled his nose. "A piece of skin with a face stretched in a frame."

She gave him a disbelieving look, then snickered. "That kissed you?"

He took a deep breath and furrowed his eyebrows. "Sort of. She was in Rose at the time."

"Ah. So. Rose kissed you."

He hemmed and hawed. "Rose's body, yes, if you want to be technical. But Cassandra had possessed her. So it was really Cassandra who did the kissing."

"Humph," she snorted playfully. "None of the many aliens who possessed me ever wanted to kiss you."

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "What's up with that?"

She laughed. "Tell me about another one."

"Well. There was Reinette."

"Reinette?"

"Madame de Pompadour."

She raised her eyebrows. "You do get around."

He tipped his head back and forth, rolling his eyes and pulling a pleased-with-himself "I do, don't I?" face. "Well..." he said. "I had known her since she was a child."

"So this was a friend-of-the-family type kiss?"

He hemmed and hawed some more. "No, I don't think so. It was quite enthusiastic."

"Hmm," she said, thoughtfully. "And this only started happening since your last regeneration?"

"Well," he said. "There was Jack."

"Jack?" she asked, drawing the word out. "Not Jack...ie? Jack...queline?"

"No, just Jack. Probably not his real name, but that's what he went by. He kissed me right before I regenerated the last time."

Sarah just blinked at him.

"More of a death ritual in that case, I suppose. We all thought we were going to die." He looked thoughtful. "Although he didn't kiss me on the forehead. And he was every bit as enthusiastic as Cassandra and Reinette about it."

Sarah's shocked look changed to one of concern. "What happened to him?"

The Doctor shook his head sadly. "Killed by the Daleks most likely."

"I'm sorry," Sarah said gently. "I didn't mean to..."

"No, no, it's alright." He gave her a wan smile. "It's good to have someone to share it with." Sarah was quiet, watching his eyes, feeling there was more to the story. "I left him behind," he finally said. "Didn't mean to. But I regenerated." He looked up at her. "You know how I am right after I regenerate."

She nodded. "You didn't even remember me."

"Exactly. Jack went right out of my head. And after I'd recovered, and Rose and I went back to look for him, he was gone."

"Well. You tried."

He nodded, but didn't look any happier. "I just couldn't shake the feeling there was something wrong about it."

"His disappearance?" He nodded. "But if he had been killed by the Daleks..."

"I know," he said. "He could have been any one of a large number of piles of dust." He shook his head again.

"So, that's it?" Sarah asked, hoping to pull him out of his sad memories. "All the humans that have kissed you?"

"Well." She waited. "There was one other. A doctor. But I actually kissed her."

"Really." He nodded, wide-eyed. "Why?"

He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. "Blimey if I know. Seemed like the thing to do at the time. I was just off a rough regeneration. Again." He looked up at her. "You know..."

"How you are, yes." She laughed softly.

They were both silent for a minute. "So," the Doctor finally said. "Do you feel the urge to kiss me now?"

She looked down at him. "Not particularly urgent at the moment, no. Why?"

"Well," he said. "It's just that...you've been so open-minded. So accepting of my...intimacy ritual.. It would be churlish of me not to give yours a try."

One corner of her mouth curled up. "In the nature of an experiment?"

"Exactly. Let's have a proper human snog and see what it's all about."

"Okay," she said slowly. She looked down at him, then bit her lower lip and looked away.

"What's wrong?"

She gave a small snort of laughter. "Nothing. Just. Oh, nothing." She steeled herself, then bent her head and kissed him.

When their lips parted, he was frowning slightly and looked as if he were listening intently to something. "You're disappointed."

"No. Oh no." His frown deepened with every denial and she realized how pointless they were. "Well. It's more enjoyable if you kiss back."

He slapped himself on the forehead. "Of course it is! Blimey!" He shook his head. "Try again."

So she did. And this time he kissed back. And for a non-human beginner, he did it with remarkable enthusiasm.

Their lips parted after a much longer time this time, and his eyes were dancing when he looked up at her. "Oooh. You liked that."

She blew out a puff of air. "No point in denying it."

He frowned slightly as the listening look came over his features again. "You liked it in a...very biological way."

Sarah felt her face growing warm. "No point in denying that, either, is there?" She looked down at him. "Didn't do a thing for you, did it?"

"Well," he said with a fond smile. "I enjoyed you enjoying it."

"But it was...too biological for you."

He wrinkled his nose and nodded. "But if you liked it..."

She rolled her eyes. "You know I did."

"Then...when you feel an urge...along those lines...let me know." He looked thoughtful again. "But..." He trailed off, deep in thought.

"What?"

"Well. You were worried that you had...frustrated me. Before. When you rubbed my shoulders. Because you thought it was a...biological sort of thing." Sarah nodded, remembering. "So...wouldn't it frustrate you to have such a biological reaction and not...have it...be satisfied?"

She sighed softly, then nodded. "I s'pose it would. Eventually." She smiled down at him. "But women can enjoy that sort of biological frustration a lot longer than men can."

"Do you want to do it again, then?" he asked.

She looked in his eyes and knew that he was making the offer just to please her. And it did please her, that this fantastic, amazing, totally unlikely alien friend of hers would be willing to do something so against his nature just for her. But she knew it was something she could never ask of him. Not if she loved him for who he truly was. And now, more than ever before, she knew who he truly was.

"Let's do something we can both enjoy," she suggested softly, reaching around him and finding those special spots in his shoulders.


	15. Chapter 15

"Martha! Harry!" Sarah beamed when she found her friends in the galley, helping themselves to breakfast. She gave Martha's shoulders an affectionate squeeze as she walked behind her chair, and hugged Harry around the neck. "So good to see you again!"

Harry and Martha exchanged bemused looks and the Doctor, who entered the galley two steps behind Sarah, ducked his head to hide a grin. "Good to see you too," Martha said with a puzzled frown "But...we did just see you last night."

Sarah's eyes widened and her smile went a bit frozen at the edges. "Of course you did," she said, without missing a beat. "How did you sleep?"

"Great," Harry assured her. "Always sleep well on shipboard." The Doctor glanced up at him with a smile. "No matter what kind of ship," Harry added.

"It's the TARDIS energy," the Doctor said.

"Certainly seems to have worked on you," Martha said to Sarah.

"Yes, indeed," Harry said, giving her an appraising look. "You're the picture of health. Sleeping in the zero room must have done you good."

Sarah smiled broadly. "I feel as if I've had a month's vacation," she said, giving the Doctor a sidelong glance.

They all tucked into breakfast with enthusiasm, the Doctor and Sarah catching up to the early-comers quickly. They'd reached the coffee-sipping stage when a traditional four-tone doorbell chime sounded through the TARDIS.

"You installed a doorbell?" Martha asked, laughing.

"I programmed the TARDIS to make a doorbell sound when someone knocks on the door," the Doctor clarified. "I think our tour guides are here."

He left to answer the door and the other three quickly tidied the galley and then followed him to the console room. Rohstan was coming up the ramp with the Doctor. Behind them, dragging his taloned feet, came Galindor, his feathers limp and bedraggled, his usually-bright eyes dull and red-rimmed.

"Galindor!" Martha and Sarah both hurried to their alien friend.

"Oh," he moaned. "Please speak quietly, Martha Jones and Sarah Jane. And please do not even consider engaging in your alien custom of hugging."

Sarah and Martha looked at each other, eyebrows up, then looked back at Galindor. "What's wrong?" Martha asked softly.

"Dor attended several more festive gatherings after we retired to our perches for the night," Rohstan answered for his nephew, looking at him with eyebrows furrowed and crest raised.

"Ooooh, Nunks," Galindor groaned. "Please do not shout."

"I am not shouting," Rohstan said.

"Maybe you should go home and go to...perch," Sarah said to Galindor.

He shook his head, then winced. "No. I do not wish to be absent for this voyage."

Sarah turned to Rohstan. "Would the black salve help?"

He shook his head. "No. It would be contraindicated in his case, as he already lacks energy due to his excess consumption of fermented glarenda juice and failure to perch at a reasonable hour." Galindor groaned.

"Doctor?" Martha said, raising pleading eyes to the Time Lord. "Do you have any...interspecies hangover cures?"

"He does not need to be cured of these symptoms," Rohstan broke in sternly. "He needs to experience them fully as an inducement to learn to avoid acquiring them."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at Martha, shrugged his shoulders and held his hands out, palms up. He obviously wasn't going to overrule Rohstan in a family matter. Martha sighed, and she and Sarah gently helped their alien friend up the ramp.

Galindor promptly climbed up onto the railing that surrounded the console, gripped it with his feet, and turned into a feathery ball of misery as he squatted, bent double, and tucked his hands in between his chest and his thighs. "Wake me when we arrive," he muttered, then closed his eyes and let his chin fall forward onto his chest.

Sarah and Martha looked at each other. Then they both covered their mouths with their hands to stifle the laughter that threatened to bubble up and out. Sarah waved Martha to follow her as they stepped away from their perching friend and around to the other side of the console.

"Poor guy," Martha said sympathetically, but then spoiled it with an involuntary laugh.

"I know," Sarah said. "You have to feel for him. And yet..."

Martha nodded. "He brought it on himself."

Sarah glanced over at him. "I hope it was worth it."

The Doctor was flipping switches and twirling dials, setting the time rotor in motion, as they spoke. The TARDIS started to wheeze and groan, and he stepped quickly around the console toward Sarah and Martha. Sarah, without interrupting her conversation with Martha, reached down and flipped a row of switches, then cranked a handle three times to the left.

The Doctor froze in his tracks and blinked at Sarah. She kept on talking to Martha until she noticed that the other woman had gone silent and was giving her a strange look. Then she turned and saw the Doctor. Their eyes locked for a second, then he stepped back over to his side of the console. He arched an eyebrow at her, gave her the goofiest of goofy grins, pumped a lever and punched a series of buttons. Then he raised both eyebrows at her and waited.

She looked him in the eyes for a second, then glanced down at her side of the console. She reached out, ran her fingertips over a touch screen in a clockwise motion, moved a dial from one to ten, and pushed a button. Then she looked up at him across the console.

Delighted, incredulous laughter burst from both ot them, and then each went at his or her side of the console in a flurry of activity. After a minute, the time rotor slowed and the TARDIS came to a juddering halt. The Doctor and Sarah both collapsed in gales of laughter, Sarah with her arms wrapped around her waist, the Doctor bending double, his hands on his knees, laughing helplessly. They managed to stumble toward each other. Sarah took his face between her hands and wiped away the tears of laughter that wet his cheeks. He reached up and, with his thumbs, did the same for her. They shook their heads at each other, still grinning broadly, then, arms around each other, headed down the ramp and out of the TARDIS.

Harry and Martha just stared at each other for a long moment. Rohstan poked his recalcitrant nephew in the tailfeathers. "We have arrived at our first destination."

"Already?" a thin voice said plaintively. A moment later, Galindor uncurled himself and climbed slowly and carefully down from the railing. He and his uncle followed the Doctor and Sarah down the ramp.

Harry crooked his elbow and held it out to Martha. "Down the rabbit hole, Miss Jones?" he asked politely.

Martha grinned appreciatively and took his arm. "Down the rabbit hole, Doctor Sullivan."

* * *

"Mmm." Sarah closed her eyes and breathed in a long, slow breath. "That smell. So...." She broke off, trying to find words to describe the scent.

Harry was inhaling deeply also. "Nothing like it. Almost...vanilla. With a hint of...cinnamon? Ginger? But..." He also trailed off, lost for words.

"It is the forest," Rohstan said. They stood at the top of a rocky peak, their third stop of the day on their grand tour of the wonders of Galindor and Rohstan's world. Below them, a sea of purple leaves stretched to the horizon, interspersed with the occasional clump of pink and lavender.

"Beautiful," Sarah said, opening her eyes and looking at the alien vista. "Just fantastically beautiful." Then she blinked, frowned, and closed her eyes again. After a second, she opened them, stared at Harry, and grasped his forearm to steady herself.

"What's wrong?" he asked, gripping her upper arm. "Rohstan? Is there anything toxic in that smell?"

"No, Harry Sullivan. Nothing that I am aware of. At least for our people. In fact, we use the plant for medicinal purposes." Rohstan took Sarah's other arm and looked at her with worried eyes.

She shook her head. "I'm...I'm...fine. Just..." She blinked, looked down at the ground, then up at Harry again. "Sort of...seeing double," she said, closing her eyes.

Harry glanced around the windswept peak for a place for Sarah to sit, but nothing presented itself except the TARDIS. Before he could help her in that direction, though, the Doctor was there. He had been on the far side of the plateau they had landed on, enjoying the view in that direction, savoring the wonderful aroma and chatting with Martha and Galindor a moment before.

"_Terza_," he said softly. "Let me help." He reached out towards her face, his fingers splayed.

She ducked back. "You wouldn't..."

He looked horrified. "Oh no. Never."

She looked into his eyes, then shook her head ruefully. "Sorry. Of course not. Go ahead." She inclined her face toward him, and he pressed his fingers to her temples. They both closed their eyes and were silent for a minute.

Their eyes opened simultaneously. "Better?" he asked gently.

She looked at him, then gave a trial glance around the plateau, then back at him and nodded. "Go away."

His eyebrows shot up and she laughed softly. "Just...go back where you were. Look at something. Talk to someone."

"Ah!" He turned on his heel and strode quickly back to Martha and Galindor, who had been watching the byplay with equal parts curiosity and concern. When the Doctor reached them, he draped his long arms around their shoulders, turning them away from Sarah and back to the splendid view. He chatted with them, seeming to reassure them, then turned and gave Sarah a questioning look over his shoulder.

She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. He flashed her a beaming grin, then turned back to the others.

Harry took her hand, pressed two fingers to her wrist, and looked at his watch.

"Harry..."

"Shhh."

"Harry, I..."

"Shhh!" He glanced away from his watch long enough to give her a commanding look from under lowered brows. She shushed, her lips twitching. When he dropped her wrist, he placed his thumb under her eye and rolled the lower lid down, then did the same on the upper lid, rolling it up and examining her eye closely. He gave her other eye the same intense scrutiny, then pressed his palm to her forehead.

"Rohstan, are you sure that black salve is safe for humans?" he asked when he had completed his rudimentary examination.

"Not at all, Harry Sullivan. We have no information about human physiology and no tests whatsoever have been essayed to determine its effect for your people."

"I knew I shouldn't have let him use it on you," Harry muttered.

"Oh, Harry," Sarah said.

"It is assumed that the Doctor, through long association with your species, would know what is compatible with your physiology," Rohstan added.

"He does," Sarah said emphatically. "The salve is fine. He used it on me when we were here before, remember?"

Harry gave her a sour look. "You said that was just a scratch."

"It was."

"Hardly the same thing as being slathered in the stuff over half of your body."

"Harry. Look at me. I'm fine. You said it yourself. The picture of health."

"That was before..." Harry started to say, then stopped.

"Before what?" Sarah prompted him.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Before you started acting...odd."

It was Sarah's turn to raise her eyebrows at that. "Odd how?"

Harry blew out a disbelieving breath. "Oh. Piloting the TARDIS with him."

"Well," Sarah said shortly.

"Suddenly seeing double and, from half a football pitch away, he knows it, races in, does some weird alien thing and puts you right?"

"Well," Sarah said again, pooching out her bottom lip. She looked down, then from side to side, and finally risked meeting Harry's eyes.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Sarah Jane?" he asked, more gently.

She did want to tell him. He was her oldest and dearest human friend and he deserved to know. Especially if he was going to be getting the wrong end of the stick and worrying himself about her because of it. She glanced at Rohstan, then across the plateau to the other three. This just wasn't the right time or place. "I'm fine, Harry," she said softly. "Please believe me. I'm better than fine. I'm wonderful." She gave him a reassuring smile. "Besides, I've always been odd," she added, her smile becoming a mischievous grin. "You know that."

Harry shook his head. "You've been in many an odd circumstance in your life, Sarah Jane. But you've always been a rock of normalcy in the midst of chaos."

She pulled a horrified face. "How boring."

He finally laughed, albeit reluctantly. "No. You are never that."

"Good," she said, taking his arm and turning to look at the purple forest.


	16. Chapter 16

Sarah spent the rest of the day practicing. The wonders of an alien planet were enthralling, but the ability to see what the Doctor was seeing, hear what he was hearing--now that he'd shown her how to manage it, and not have it superimpose itself involuntarily on her own vision and hearing--was even more wondrous to her. Whenever she'd tiptoe into his head to share what he was seeing and hearing, he'd look over at her with one of those silly, happy grins that she loved. She hadn't seen that many open, relaxed smiles on this face of his in the time since they'd been reunited at Deffry Vale School, but now, they came easily and often.

They had a picnic lunch in one of the remaining ruins of an ancient civilization that had long ago inhabited most of the planet's southern hemisphere. Galindor ate very lightly, especially for his species, and looked a bit bilious at even taking in that much food. The Doctor could not sit still and eat--he was up and down, glasses on and off, small notepad in his hand, ranging around the site, peering at the figures engraved in the crumbling walls of the building. By the time lunch was over, he had deciphered the pictographs and given Rohstan the translation that had baffled his world's archeologists for generations.

The many-tiered city of Keldangara, the Martanial falls, the bazaar at Hykeenawom--which, Sarah had to admit, rivalled the Oncabrian Fair for variety and exoticness of the items on offer--took up their afternoon. They stayed at the bazaar until the vendors were pulling down the curtains on their booths, then trundled back to the TARDIS, laden with purchases.

"I could have stayed on Earth and played pack horse for your shopping trip," Harry grunted as he shifted a pile of packages that were threatening to overbalance in his arms.

"Wouldn't have been as much fun, though, would it?" Sarah asked, maneuvering through the TARDIS doors with her own arms full of bundles. "Besides, a good few of those are yours!"

When the TARDIS landed in front of Rohstan's house, a blind dropped in the corner of one of the front windows and a moment later, a flock of chicks of various sizes and colors streamed out the front door. Galindor hurried into the house, fending off the little ones with outstretched arms and a piteous look on his face. Sarah, Martha, and Harry found themselves with a chick in each arm, as the little ones ran up to them with feathery arms upraised. They didn't cuddle and cling like little primates, though. They wriggled out of the humans' embrace and grasped their arms in their feet, forcing the bemused trio to hold their arms out to make level perches for them.

"I may have to adopt a parrot when I get home," Sarah said, laughing and looking in the bright, curious eyes of the chick on her left arm.

"Or take up falconry," Harry suggested. "Always thought that sounded interesting. And Thor would like it."

Just then, Rohstan emerged from the TARDIS, his arms piled high with bundles. The little ones twittered excitedly, scrambled down Martha, Harry and Sarah's frames and pelted toward him at top speed.

"What did you bring us, Grandfather?" was the cry on every little beak.

"Why do you believe I brought you anything?" Rohstan asked, eyebrows raised, eyes twinkling. "Perhaps these bundles are the laundry that I retrieved from the cleaning establishment."

None of the chicks bought that, though, and some of the bolder ones jumped up and playfully tried to nick a package from their grandfather's arms. The boldest, however, turned away from Rohstan and saw the interior of the TARDIS through the open doors.

He cawed loudly, getting the attention of the other chicks, then, with a "follow me!" wave of his hand, bolted for the Doctor's timeship. He ran through the doors and up the ramp, chirping excitedly, his brothers, sisters and cousins hot on his heels.

"Wuh-oh," Martha said, rolling her eyes at Sarah, who raised her eyebrows and snickered. They all hurried back to the TARDIS and up the ramp, arriving just in time to see the Doctor look up from the console and take in the invading flock.

"Ah! Kids," he said, his eyes bugging out, his mouth hanging open. "Erm. That is. Chicks! No. Ah. Don't...no..oh no...not in there..." The chicks paid no attention to him whatsoever, most scattering into the interior of the TARDIS, a few climbing up to perch on the edge of the console and peck at various buttons and switches. "N-n-n-n-no! Not that! Don't touch...erm...peck..." He threw a wild-eyed plea for help at his human companions, then turned back to the chicks on the console, sweeping one up in each long arm.

Harry, Martha and Sarah headed through the coral arch that led off the console room, hot on the tailfeathers of the truant flock, when Rohstan, having divested himself of his packages, climbed the ramp. He cawed in a deep bass register and it echoed throughout the TARDIS. In a matter of seconds, sheepish chicks appeared from everywhere, their crests plastered to their heads, their eyes downcast, their hands clasped behind their backs.

"Shame on you," Rohstan said. "Is this how you behave in front of our guests? Is this how you treat their home?"

The ringleader risked a quick glance up at his stern grandfather, then looked back down. "But," he muttered. "Its interior dimensions exceed its exterior dimensions."

"Indeed they do," Rohstan said shortly, glaring at him. "And does that excuse inexcusable behavior?"

"Sorry," the little one muttered, shuffling his feet.

"Sorry indeed," Rohstan said. "We will discuss this later. Into the domicile, now, every one of you."

The humans all had their hands over their mouths, hiding smiles, as the chicks filed down the ramp and out of the TARDIS.

"I apologize for their misbehavior, Doctor," Rohstan said to the Time Lord. "They are overexcited."

"No harm done," the Doctor said, smiling. Then the smile faded as he ran his long fingers through his hair and looked down at the console. "At least...I hope not."

"Our evening meal is prepared." A rusty brown hen stuck her head in the still-open doors of the TARDIS to announce this. Then her eyes widened as she realized what she was seeing. "Oh my," she squawked.

"We will be in momentarily," Rohstan said, and she scurried off. "Doctor? Have they damaged your ship?"

The Doctor's fingers flew over the console, probing and testing. "No. I don't think so. If they did, should be easy to fix." He gave his alien friend a reassuring smile. "Let's eat. I'll double check everything later."

They filed out of the TARDIS, the Doctor carefully locking the doors behind him, and followed Rohstan into his home. There they found two tables laden with exotic and savory dishes. One table was half the height of the other, and the subdued chicks were already seated around it. The hens showed the Doctor, Sarah, Martha and Harry to the places of honor at the head of the adults' table.

"Where is Galindor?" Martha asked as the food was passed around the table and everyone dug in.

"He is perching," one of the hens answered. "He will eat later."

Sarah laughed and shook her head. "He was perching on and off all day. Taking little..." She looked at Martha and grinned. "...catnaps."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Birdnaps, more like," he said. "I think it's the only way he got through the day."

"Perhaps he will resist the call of the festive invitations he has received for tonight," Rohstan said, passing a bowl of something that looked like flower stew to the Doctor. "Or at least moderate his consumption of glarenda juice."

They made plans for the next day over the meal--a visit to a major hospital, as per Harry's original request, in the morning, and the zoological gardens in the afternoon. When the hens noticed that Sarah, Martha and Harry had stopped eating, while the rest of the family were still tucking in enthusiastically, they frowned and tried to encourage their guests to eat more.

"Oh, it was all wonderful, but really. I can't," Sarah said, pressing a hand to her midriff.

"Their species does not require as many calories as ours," Rohstan explained to his hens. "Do not be offended. It does not mean they do not enjoy the food. It is just their way."

The hens bobbed their heads rather dubiously, but stopped offering food to the humans. Sarah sat back and sighed, looking around the table, then over at the chicks' table, with a benevolent smile. "We never did anything like this," she said to the Doctor. "In all our travels."

"Like what?" Harry said, still toying with a bit of pastry.

"Like...this," Sarah said, indicating the table and all those sitting around it. "Being welcomed into someone's home. Having a meal with his family."

The Doctor looked at her thoughtfully for a second before responding. "No. We never did." He gave her a rueful smile. "I was always in too much of a hurry to move on." Their eyes met, and, after a moment, they both smiled. The Doctor was the first to look away. "Thank you, Rohstan," he said, turning to his friend. "It is truly a rare and joyous experience you've given us all." The humans nodded and echoed his thanks.

Rohstan huffed and puffed, embarrassed but pleased. While he and his family finished up the food, the humans made small talk with them and told them of their day. When the chicks were through eating, Rohstan snapped his fingers and one of the hens brought a pile of packages to him.

"Are you sorry for your misbehavior before our evening meal?" Rohstan asked the chicks seriously.

"Oh yes Grandfather," they all chorused earnestly, eyes fixed on the packages.

"Then perhaps you do deserve some small token from our day's journey." They jumped out of their seats and happily flocked around him, each receiving a small bundle. Rohstan beamed at them, every inch the proud grandpa, as they tore into their gifts and clucked and chirped over them, showing them to each other.

When the excitement of the gift-giving calmed down a bit, two of the hens got up and led the chicks from the room. One of them came back a few minutes later and knelt between Martha and Sarah.

"The little ones would like for you to tell them a story before they go to sleep," she said. "Would you be willing to do this?"

Martha and Sarah looked at each other in surprise, then big grins appeared on both of their faces. "What should we tell them?

"Chicken Little," Harry volunteered.

Sarah clicked her tongue at him and Martha rolled her eyes.

"Puss in Boots?" he suggested helpfully.

The women exchanged glances. "We'll think of something," Martha said, and they followed the hen out of the dining room.

They found the little flock in a room that was equipped with perches of various heights and diameters, to accommodate the differently-sized chicks. They were all already perching, hunkered down into fluffed-up downy balls, but bright eyes greeted Sarah and Martha when they stepped into the dimly-lit room. The women sat, cross-legged, side by side on the floor and spun the chicks a tale of two lucky earthlings who met a marvellous individual called a Time Lord who took them travelling in time and space. As they took turns telling of the adventures these humans had on their journeys, Sarah felt tears of joy and gratitude welling up in her eyes. Lucky earthlings, indeed. She reached over, wrapped her arm around Martha's shoulders and pulled the younger woman to her in an affectionate hug, then dashed away the tears and kept up her part of the story until the last shining eyes had closed and the last little beaked head had dropped forward onto its chest.

"Thank you," whispered the hen who had brought them to the room.

"It was our pleasure," Sarah assured her softly as she and Martha quietly got to their feet and tiptoed out of the room.

* * *

When they returned to the TARDIS, Harry and Martha said good night and headed through the coral archway off the console room without comment or question regarding Sarah's sleeping arrangements. Sarah and the Doctor gazed into each others' eyes for a moment, then he held his hand out to her. She took it and they walked through the coral arch together. As they walked, she slipped her hand out of his and wrapped her arm around his waist. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, and they meandered to the zero room.

The Doctor disentangled himself from her when he crossed the threshhold of the zero room, took two running steps, bounced up, did a one-eighty in mid-air and landed floating in lotus position, facing Sarah. She laughed. "You remind me of Cho Je," she said.

"Where do you think I learned it?" he grinned.

Sarah sobered, remembering. "Did he....?" She didn't need to finish the question. The Doctor closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "Oh. I am sorry," she said softly. "I liked him."

The Doctor nodded. His face, so happy moments before, was suddenly lined with grief. "Me too," he said, so softly Sarah could barely hear him. Then he shook off the memory with a visible effort and smiled at her again. "Well. Come on up."

Sarah's eyebrows lifted and she bounced on the balls of her feet experimentally a couple of times. That didn't seem to get her anywhere beyond standing on the floor, so she sat back on the air, folded her legs in lotus position, then looked up at him.

He grinned approvingly, but waved her to come up to his level, which was a good three feet above where she sat. She closed her eyes and concentrated for a moment, and when she opened them, she and the Doctor were on the same level, facing each other, their knees nearly touching.

He reached out and cupped her hands in his, resting the backs of his hands on her knees. He studied her palms closely for a quiet moment, then looked up at her.

"It was a good day," he said softly, happily. She nodded and smiled in agreement. He looked back down at her hands. "Didn't have to save the universe."

Sarah shook her head solemnly. "Not even once," she agreed.

He looked up into her eyes again. "Didn't have to run for our lives."

"Not even once," she said again.

His voice was husky when he continued. "And I wasn't alone in my skin. All day."

Sarah felt a cloud of gratitude envelop her. She closed her eyes and tuned in to it, to him. No, it was more than a cloud. It was more intense than that, had more direction. A wave. That was closer. Gratitude and...something else. She fine-tuned her new perceptions once again, and recognized relief. As if he'd been holding himself on a tight rein for so long he'd nearly forgotten it was there, but now, the reins were loosened, and he could finally exhale, let the tension drain from his muscles, unclench everything that had stayed so rigidly clenched for so very long.

She opened her eyes and knew by the smile on his face that he'd been following her investigations. "So. How was it for you?" he asked, the smile broadening.

"Does it need to be said?" Sarah asked.

He breathed in slowly, then exhaled. "Not how you feel about it. No. I know that." His eyes lost focus, and Sarah felt his mind and his hearts gently probing hers. "But..." He blinked, and his eyes met hers, deeply curious. "What is it like..for a human.._not _to be alone in your skin? You humans spend your lives alone. Birth to death. It's one of the first things that intrigued me about your species. How could you live like that? So alone. How could you bear it?"

"It's all we know," Sarah said softly. "It's how we're made." He nodded, and she felt that gentle searching through her soul again. "It's why we do all those...biological things we do," she added with a soft smile. "Trying to get close enough to really touch."

"Does it work?"

"With the right person. It can. Or so I've heard." She closed her eyes and felt a wave of old sorrow and loneliness wash through her, knowing he felt it too, grateful that she didn't have to put it into words. "With the wrong person. It just makes you feel more alone."

His grip on her hands tightened. "That was my fault."

She shook her head slowly. "No. It was because of you. But it wasn't your fault."

"But..." he started to say.

She would have reached out and put a finger on his lips to stop his protest in the old days. Would have fixed him with an intense gaze and tried to get across to him with her eyes and her expression what she wanted him to know. Those days, thankfully, were behind them. Now, she just gathered up every bit of love she had in her and wrapped it around him, soaked him in it, blanketed him with it.

His mouth dropped open and he gasped as if he'd been punched in the solar plexus. "Whoa," he said breathlessly, his eyes wide, shaking his head like a punch-drunk fighter who'd just taken a knock-out blow. Then he grinned and fixed her with an intense gaze, and she felt a wave of emotion spill over, around, and through her, permeating every fiber of her being. She gasped, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Now why are you crying?" he laughed softly, rubbing the tears away with gentle fingers.

She had to take a few shakey breaths before she could speak. "Because I have never...never even dreamed I could...would...be so totally...so completely....so utterly...." She trailed off, words failing her.

"Better than your way, isn't it?" he said with a mischievous grin.

"Oh, yes," she agreed, dashing away new tears. "Oh, yes," she repeated. Then she laughed. "We spend so much time wondering...does he mean it? Is it real?" She looked up at him. "Nothing to wonder about your way. You just know."

"Well." He smiled, his deep brown eyes soft. "You can hide feelings. Even our way."

"Those...boundaries you mentioned last night?"

He nodded, and reached out to stroke her cheek. "I should really teach you how to set some up. But..." He compressed his lips and hesitated. "I don't want to," he finally said softly. "I've never bonded with anyone who was so open to me before. It's just....well. I don't want to give that up. It's so..." He didn't have to finish the sentence. She knew.

"That's not selfish," she said, answering the thread of guilt that snaked through his feelings about what he'd just said.

"Yes it is." His eyes searched hers. "I want every last bit of you. Don't want you blocking anything off."

She gave him a pleased smile, then furrowed her brows. "I thought you said I had a boundary around kissing."

"Oh, that," he said dismissively. "You do have a few little things like that. Just enough to be...cute." He ducked and grinned as he said the last word. She gave him a stern look and he just grinned more. The grin suddenly disappeared and a look of curiosity took its place. "I do have another kissing question, though."

She had to laugh at his earnest expression. "Go ahead."

"Well. I've seen human males kiss females on the hand. What's that all about?"

"Oh," she said lightly. "That's nothing. Just an old-fashioned greeting. Instead of shaking hands."

His eyebrows drew together and his puzzled look deepened.

"You mean like this, right?" She picked up his hand, made as courtly a bow over it as she could manage from lotus position, and kissed the back of his hand lightly. Then she looked up at him for confirmation.

"Oh, that," he said dismissively. "No, I know about that kind of hand kissing. That's not what I was asking about."

"Then what?" It was her turn to be puzzled.

"This." He picked up her hand, cupped it in his, bent over and kissed her palm.

She nearly gasped out loud again, as the touch of his lips sent exquisite tingles through every part of her body.

He looked up with a grin. "That wasn't just a greeting."

"Oh, no," Sarah said breathlessly. "That sort of hand-kissing is..._whoo_." She blew out a breath, then gathered her thoughts and continued. "Very romantic. Very intimate."

He gave her an incredulous look, then frowned down at her hand. He turned it over, looked at the back of it, then turned it over again and looked at her palm, then turned it half-way and held it up so he could see it side-on. He took two fingers and placed one on the top and bottom of her hand, then pulled them away, keeping them the same distance apart as they had been when her hand was between them. "An inch. Give or take. Makes the difference between a ho-hum-nothing-to-it formal greeting and a..._whoo_." He imitated her appreciative breath with a grin.

Sarah looked at her palm, then at the back of her hand, then up at him. She shrugged her shoulders. "Don't ask me to explain it. More nerve endings in the palm?" she speculated.

"Do me," he said, holding out his hand, palm up.

She looked in his eyes and into his hearts and saw nothing but that frank curiosity that so delighted her in him. She laughed, then took his hand. Instead of setting right in to kissing it, though, she turned it over and examined it closely. She stroked the back of his hand gently, feeling the long bones under his skin, admiring the strength, the dexterity of his elegant fingers. "You haven't played for me since you've been back," she said softly, not looking up. "These hands would be wonderful for the piano."

"Mmm," he murmured in response. "Haven't tried. Had to jettison the music room awhile back."

"Oh, no!" Sarah cried, genuinely distressed at the loss of one of her favorite rooms in the TARDIS.

He smiled. "She grew a new one. I just haven't spent much time in there since." She felt a cloud of sorrow pass through him, only to be quickly bundled away behind one of his boundaries. "Erm. Hand kissing?" he said, bringing her back on task.

"Oh. Right." She turned his hand over but instead of kissing his palm, she pressed it to her cheek. Then she looked deeply into his eyes and, without breaking eye contact, turned her face to the side and gently kissed his palm.

"Oh, you do that better than I did," he said appreciately.

"Well, wanted to give you the full experience," she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "And actually, for the full experience..." She broke off and turned back to his hand, which she still held pressed gently to her cheek, and planted a series of light kisses from the center of his palm up the heel of his hand and then along his wrist. She stopped and looked up at him with a wry grin. "If it goes much further than that, it gets very biological."

"Women do this to men?" he asked.

She had to stop and think about that. "No, usually not. I was just demonstrating. Since you asked." She smiled. "It's the sort of thing men do to women to try to...put them in the mood."

"Mmm," he murmured thoughtfully. "Men don't require putting in the mood?"

"Not so much," she said with a grin.

"Odd species, you lot," he said. "You'd think both sexes would be equally enthusiastic about reproduction in order to continue the species."

"Reproduction is the last thing on most people's minds when they're...in the mood," Sarah said. "Except possibly hoping it doesn't happen. Sometimes fervently hoping it doesn't happen."

He frowned thoughtfully, then broke into a sunny grin. "I should have bonded with a human long ago. Best way in the world to learn about your species."

"Ditto for learning about yours," Sarah said with an answering grin. She unfolded her legs, leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. He stretched his long legs out as he fell backward onto the air, catching her and holding her tightly. "Let's do some more research."

"Let's," he agreed happily.


	17. Chapter 17

Sarah felt her feet touch down on the floor of the zero room. She felt his hands gripping her upper arms with bruising strength. But mostly, she felt pain. Heart-wrenching, soul-tearing, mind-scorching pain.

She felt his desperate attempts to rebuild the crumbling boundaries around the pain and she felt each one fail. With effort, she focussed her eyes on him, saw him standing in front of her, holding her at arm's length, his face averted, what she could see of it twisted with pain and the struggle to contain it.

She gasped. "You can't."

He turned his face even further from her, but she knew his eyes were wild. His hearts were pounding. "No," he gasped through clenched teeth, his voice raw.

"I can help," she pleaded. "Let me."

He closed his eyes, shook his head. She felt another wave of unbearable agony crash through her. "You are not a Time Lady. It would break you." Every word cost him dearly. He spit them out with all the force he could muster.

"Knowing this. And not helping you. That will break me," she said softly, earnestly. "You can't go on like this."

"I can," he said, his jaw clenched. "I have. I will."

She shook her head. "You don't have to. Not anymore."

He finally turned to look at her, his eyes burning. "I won't risk you."

"My risk to take," she answered. He shook his head vehemently, but his shoulders sagged. "We are one," she said or thought, not sure which at this point. "Your strength is mine. Mine is yours."

The fire in his eyes suddenly burned out. He struggled to focus on her. "It's not enough. We're not enough."

"We have to be," she said, feeling his grip on her arms soften. "We will be." She sent her mind into his, flinched at the chaos she found there, but kept her focus until she found what she was searching for. "This." She placed her hands, palms down, on his chest, one over each heart. "You did this. When you went off with Rohstan the second time."

He nodded, swallowed hard. "I wanted you to know. In case."

She nodded, licked dry lips. "But it's also..."

He nodded but didn't release his grip on her arms. "No," he said again, but the force was gone from his voice. In its place she heard utter exhaustion. She felt his desperate need, his equally desperate fear for her, felt them warring within him, tearing him apart. She reached up, gently pried his fingers away from her arms, then placed his hands, palms down, over her heart. She sent a last look at him, willing him to leave them there when she took her hands away. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, but didn't move his hands. She placed her hands gently on his chest again, over his hearts, and closed her eyes.

* * *

When she regained consciousness, she was lying on the floor of the zero room. Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at the ceiling for long moments, just breathing, too soul-blasted to do more. Finally, she mustered the strength to roll her head to one side. She saw him, lying sprawled on his back, eyes closed, arms thrown wide. She stared at him blankly, her mind empty, noting the rise and fall of his chest impassively. That rise and fall should mean something to her, a small voice in her head seemed to be trying to say. She kept watching to see if any ideas came to mind.

As she watched, his eyes slowly opened. He lay, just breathing and staring at the ceiling, for long moments. Then he slowly rolled his head toward her.

Their eyes met. He tried to roll up onto his side, to reach out for her, but the attempt failed and he fell helplessly back onto the floor. He threw her a haunted, hollow-eyed look, and stretched one long arm toward her. She did the same. Their fingertips brushed, then touched, then entwined. With that small contact, they both fell back into merciful oblivion.


	18. Chapter 18

"Sarah Jane. The Doctor has requested that I inform you that there is a bench just a little further along the pathway. He is concerned that you are in need of rest."

Sarah started to glance down the trail to where the Doctor and Martha were leaning on a railing, watching a creature that looked like a small stegasaurus munch on multi-colored foliage, but abruptly stopped herself. She felt Harry's eyes on her, but hoped the sun glasses she had found in the TARDIS wardrobe would keep him from seeing too much. "Thank you, Rohstan," she said. "I am a bit tired."

"Are you well Sarah Jane?" Rohstan asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "And the Doctor? You do not seem to have had a restful night."

"That's putting it mildly," Harry said, frowning at Sarah. "I nearly had her admitted at the hospital this morning."

"Harry," she said. "I'm just tired." She turned to Rohstan. "We did not have a restful night, no," she said with a wan smile. "But we're okay."

"Please advise me if you require any medical assistance," he said. "It is distressing to me that you are unwell."

She nodded. "I will. And thank you for your concern. But please don't worry. Have fun with your grandchicks." She looked up the pathway and smiled at the sight of the small flock. "I think Galindor could use some help with them."

"Erm, indeed," Rohstan said, and headed up the path to join his family.

Sarah turned and started down the path in the other direction, toward the bench. This pathway was, as were all they had walked in the zoo so far this afternoon, little more than a rough track of the sort you would find in a field or wood. The animals were not fenced or caged, but ran free. Force fields contained the creatures in their proper zones, kept predators and prey apart, and prevented the animals from crossing or getting too close to the visitors' trails. Rails for perching--or leaning--were supplied along the pathway at good viewing positions. Sarah and Harry had been leaning on a rail, watching a green-scaled creature with multiple snakey arms plucking fruit from a tree, when Rohstan had approached.

Sarah's feet felt leaden, and the ground was uneven. When she stumbled over a downed branch, Harry reached out to steady her, taking a firm grip on her upper arm. She flinched and gave an involuntary gasp. Harry let go of her arm immediately.

"Sorry," he said. "What's..."

"It's nothing," she interrupted. "My arm's just a little sore."

"Let me look," he said, and before she could move to stop him, he had rolled up the loose sleeve of her blouse, the blouse she had chosen specifically for the three-quarter length sleeves, dark and soft, that would hide the bruises on her arms. So much for that, she thought, as Harry stared in disbelief at the hand-print shaped deep purple mark on her upper arm.

"Sarah," he said, staring at her with concern. He let the sleeve fall back down and rolled the other one up far enough to see the matching bruise on her other arm. "Did you leave the TARDIS last night?"

She shook her head.

"Did anyone come in the TARDIS last night?"

"Not that I know of," she answered softly.

"So." Harry paused a long moment. "He did this to you?"

She took a deep breath, then sighed it out. "He didn't mean to. He didn't realize... He feels terrible about it."

"Sarah," Harry said, incredulous. "Do you hear yourself?"

She stood and blinked at him, trying to get her weary mind to work. "Harry," she said slowly, puzzled. Then the penny dropped. "Oh. You can't even think..."

"What am I supposed to think?"

She pressed a hand to her forehead. "Can we sit and discuss this?"

"Of course," Harry said unhappily. He placed a hand in the small of her back and guided her toward the bench. It was a rudimentary seat, nothing more than a large log cut in half and propped up on legs, the top smoothed just enough to prevent splinters, but to Sarah it looked better than a silk-upholstered chaise longue at the moment. She sank gratefully down on it, and Harry sat next to her.

Before either could say anything, a little pink chick broke away from Rohstan's flock and ran to them. It climbed up onto Sarah's lap and patted her cheek, then tipped its head to one side and peered at her eyes curiously. It reached up and tugged at one earpiece of Sarah's sunglasses.

"Easy, little one," she said, reaching up and holding the sunglasses in place. The chick tugged harder, and Sarah gave in with a small laugh and let it have the glasses. It balanced them on its beak, but, since it didn't have any external ears for the earpieces to hook onto, the glasses just dangled precariously.

Sarah had to laugh. "Here." She took hold of the earpieces and worked the ends into the roots of the chick's crest feathers where they began on the sides of its head. Now the earpieces were too high, by human standards at least, but the glasses did stay on. Delighted, the chick scrambled off her lap and ran to show the others.

Sarah watched it go, feeling Harry's eyes on her, unwilling to turn and face him.

"Sarah. Let me see," he finally said softly.

Reluctantly, she did. He studied her eyes for a long moment, then sighed.

"Not sure which of you looks more shattered," he finally said.

Sarah turned away and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw Galindor bending over, one hand on the back of the chick who had taken her glasses, the other pointing at her. The chick ran down the path to her, handed her the glasses, then turned and ran back to its family. Sarah started to put the sunglasses back on, but pushed them up on top of her head instead and went to rub her eyes.

"Don't," Harry said gently. "You'll do more damage." He looked around, saw a small drinking fountain just a few strides away. He walked over to it, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, dunked it in the cool water, then folded it and wrung the excess out. He returned to the bench. "Lie down," he said.

Sarah was too tired to argue. Besides, lying down sounded like a great idea. He sat at the end of the bench and she stretched out on her back, her legs dangling off the other end, her head resting in his lap. He placed the damp handkerchief over her eyes and she nearly melted with relief.

"Harry, that's wonderful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. "Now. What happened?"

She sighed, thinking of all the things that had happened since she had innocently started rubbing the Doctor's shoulders in her living room. Where to begin?

Harry must have misinterpreted her silence as refusal. "Come on Sarah. Yesterday, the two of you were thick as thieves. Finishing each others' sentences. Holding hands. Acting like...newlyweds. Today. You can't even look at each other." He paused a moment. "Can't stand to be within ten feet of each other." He paused again, clearly waiting for a response, but Sarah still hadn't found a good starting point. "Did you have a fight?"

She lifted one side of the handkerchief and looked up at him. "Him and me?" she asked incredulously.

"Happens," Harry said. "Especially when a relationship has suddenly...erm...moved to a new level, shall we say?"

Sarah shook her head and let the cool cloth fall back over her eyes. "I feel like I've been in a fight." She thought back to the night before. "A battle. A war, actually. But he and I were definitely on the same side."

"Then what?"

"We're just a little...sensitive to each other right now," Sarah said.

"Sensitive," Harry echoed.

"Right."

"Because of something that happened last night."

"Right."

"Something that caused those bruises."

She sighed. "Sort of."

"Are we going to play twenty questions or are you going to tell me?"

Sarah sighed again, then reluctantly sat up, catching the handkerchief as it fell from her eyes. She folded it over once more and pressed it to one eye, then the other, her elbows on her knees. "He looks so much like us," she finally said softly, without looking at Harry. "And he sounds like us. And he acts like us."

"Well," Harry said, sounding deeply dubious about her last statement.

Sarah laughed softly. "OK, maybe a bit eccentric. At times. But still. It's so easy to forget he's...an entirely different species from us." Harry sat silently, giving her the time she needed to marshal her thoughts, and she reached out to him with a wave of gratitude before she remembered that he couldn't feel it. She sent it anyway, then continued. "Time Lords aren't meant to be alone. Not like us."

"We're not meant to be alone either, honey," Harry said gently.

She gave him a sad smile. "But we are. We don't...share consciousness with each other."

He laughed softly. "OK, I'll give you that one."

"Time Lords do. They call it..." She scowled. "Oh bother. I know the word now, but I still can't say it." She shook her head. "Just call it bonding. That's the closest I can come."

"But...he's always been on his own. At least since we've known him."

She nodded. "He's a bit eccentric even by Time Lord standards," she said with a fond smile. "When he decided to...borrow a TARDIS and go travelling, he knew he'd be giving that up. That he'd be lonely. And he knew it would be hard. But back then, even if he wasn't bonded, one on one, with a partner, the other Time Lords were always there, in his head, sort of like..."

"Background noise?" Harry suggested.

She nodded again. "So. He was never truly alone in his skin. Not back then."

"Then they all died, and the background noise went away."

"Exactly. And he's had to live in that vast echoing silence ever since."

"Alone in his head." She nodded. "Just like us," Harry said with a crooked grin and a lift of his eyebrows.

"It's normal for us. For him..." She shook her head. "It's been nearly unbearable."

"So." Harry tipped his head forward and gave her a pointed look. "What does this have to do with what happened last night?"

Sarah took a deep breath and looked down at the handkerchief she was still holding. "Time Lords can't grieve alone." Harry raised his eyebrows at this unexpected statement, and she hurried to clarify. "Oh, they can feel grief." She closed her eyes. "Dear God can they," she said softly. "But...they can't process it alone. Can't...move through the stages, the way we do." She looked up at him. "They need other Time Lords."

"Why?"

"That's how they processed grief. They shared it. Telepathically. Through a special...mourning bond. Dissipated it. Great system, really," she said appreciatively. "The more the person who died was loved, the more family and friends he had, the more grief there was at his passing, but also the more Time Lords there were to share it out and process it."

"So someone who wasn't much loved and wasn't going to be much missed..." Harry started.

Sarah nodded, and finished the sentence for him. "...had fewer mourners, but that was fine because there was less grief to process."

"Hmph," Harry snorted, thinking it over. Then he frowned and looked at her. "So when they all died. Except him..."

She felt a muscle jump in her jaw and her voice was rough when she answered. "He was the only one left. To mourn everyone. Friends. Family. Acquaintances. Celebrities." Harry threw her a puzzled look on that one. "You know. People you don't really know but you know about. You feel you know them."

"Time Lord celebrities," Harry said with a wry grin.

"They had them. Just like us." She paused, turned the handkerchief over in her hand. "All that grief. And no way to process it. No one to share it with. I don't know why he didn't go insane." Then she laughed softly, painfully. "I think he did, actually. A bit. Until he found a way to lock it inside. Build a wall around it. Dam it up."

"And last night?" Harry nudged.

She took a deep breath. "The dam burst." She closed her eyes, remembering the torrent of grief that he finally hadn't been able to hold back.

"And you were downstream."

Sarah laughed ruefully. "We were standing at the base of the dam."

Harry frowned. "We?" She looked puzzled, but nodded. Harry stared at her for a moment, eyebrows still furrowed, before continuing. "I'm missing something here. I mean, I know you'd be upset for him if he was going through some sort of emotional turmoil and would empathize and all, but...it's still his grief. Not yours."

"Well..." Sarah said. Harry waited expectantly. "It's sort of...ours."

"Ours," Harry repeated flatly. She nodded silently. "Yours and his." She nodded again, more emphatically. "Why is that?"

Sarah took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip before answering. "Well. You know that bonding thing I was telling you about?" He nodded, still frowning. "Well. We sort of...did it."

Harry blinked at her. "I thought you said that was a Time Lord thing."

She compressed her lips and nodded.

"So. You and he." Harry waved a finger between Sarah and the Doctor's last known location up the trail. "How...?"

Sarah shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe it's all the time I spent in the TARDIS." She laughed throatily. "Maybe it's all the aliens who possessed me back then. Maybe it rearranged my brain waves somehow."

"Or maybe it's because..." Harry stopped in mid-thought. Sarah looked up at him after a moment and raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to continue. He had to swallow hard before he could, and when he did, his voice was rough. "...you love him so much."

"Maybe," she agreed softly.

"Well." Harry took a deep breath and stiffened his spine and his upper lip. "I'm happy for you."

Sarah gave him a very surprised look.

"Not for the...dam bursting part," Harry said, with a small, rueful chuckle. "For the...bonding." He took her hand, laced his fingers through hers, and stared down at them. "I've always known how you felt about him. But...I had my doubts about whether he felt the same way." He paused, waiting for a reaction from her, but none came. "Oh, I knew he was fond of you. Who wouldn't be?" Her eyes flickered up at him and she smiled, then looked back down. "But...when you fell...I knew." She looked up at him then, her head tipped to one side, green eyes puzzled. "He was terrified. Practically paralyzed with fear. When he saw you weren't breathing." His voice was low. "I wasn't in great shape myself," he said, looking in her eyes. "But...well. I've never seen him like that. Usually, in an emergency, he's all over it, take charge, here's what we'll do. But not that night. That night..." He blew out a soft breath, remembering. "...the heart went right out of him."

Sarah nodded. "I know."

"He told you?"

She shook her head. "He didn't have to. Not in words." She gave him a warm smile. "But...thanks for telling me. It's kind of nice to hear it in words."

"Will you be...selling the house then? Or will you be coming back for visits?" When she didn't answer right away, he looked up and saw that she was also contemplating their hands, her eyes out of focus.

"It's not like that, Harry," she finally said. "I can't..." She sighed deeply. "We still have the same problem." She looked up at him and he raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "Different lifespans."

"So. He's robbing the cradle. Always has been," Harry said with a smile.

Sarah laughed softly. "It's more than that." She sat quietly for a moment. "I could spend the rest of my life with him. In the TARDIS. But then...where would that leave him?"

"A very happy, lucky man," Harry said, with feeling.

Sarah smiled. "For how long? Twenty, thirty years tops? That's the blink of a Time Lord's eye." She looked up at him. "And then he'd be alone again. More alone than ever."

"So...?" Harry shook his head, baffled.

"So. We go on as we have been. After we've spent some time together, he has to go away for long enough to age as much as I have while we were together."

Harry frowned, working on that idea. "So this last time, when he was gone three weeks, he was really gone..." He looked at Sarah expectantly.

"About two years," she said. "And he really should have stayed away longer, after all the time we spent together. But..he wanted me to meet Martha, and to know he had someone to travel with again." She smiled as she thought about the young doctor-in-training. "And to know how perfect she was." One corner of her mouth quirked up. "And it _was _only supposed to be a quick lunch date." Harry gave her a crooked grin at that statement. "I know," she said, in a "don't even go there" tone of voice.

They sat together in silence for a minute. Then Harry shook his head. "And Shakespeare thought Romeo and Juliet were star-crossed. Should have known the two of you."

Sarah smiled sadly. "Maybe he did. Does. Will."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You've met him?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not yet. Martha did though."

"Really?"

Sarah nodded. "Said he was cute. But his breath...whew!"


	19. Chapter 19

Sarah handed the handkerchief to Harry and slipped the sunglasses down over her eyes. "S'pose we should catch up with the others before they send out a search party."

Harry shook out the damp handkerchief.

"Sorry," Sarah said, watching him.

He folded it up again and tucked it into his trouser pocket. "No problem. It's nearly dry." He stood and extended a hand to her. She took it, stood and linked arms with him, and together they headed up the trail.

"You know, you don't have to do this," he said. "I'm sure Rohstan would be happy to lay on transport back to the TARDIS for you if you want to rest."

She took a deep breath and gazed around. "Not sure I could handle being in the TARDIS right now," she said softly. "It's so...him." Then she gave him a determinedly bright smile. "Besides. How many more chances am I going to get to see an alien zoo? I don't want to miss this."

"Mmm," Harry responded non-commitally. They walked through the foliage, pausing briefly when a leather-winged creature fluttered by, bumping gently against the force field that contained it.

"So," Harry said as they strolled on. "What exactly happened last night? I mean. Dam bursting metaphors aside." She looked up at him with a sad smile, but her eyes were hidden by the sunglasses. "That is, if it's any of my business."

"Of course it's your business," she assured him quickly, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. She fell silent then, marshaling her thoughts, trying to find a way to explain something well beyond the realm of normal human experience.

"You know I haven't had to deal with grief much, in my life," she finally said. "Not having much of a family and all. Just Aunt Lavinia."

He nodded. "You grieved for the Doctor. When you thought he was dead."

She compressed her lips, remembering those long years of not knowing, of wondering. "I was never sure though. That's not the same as knowing someone's gone forever. Part of me kept thinking...hoping...that he'd turn up again."

"That's worse than knowing, in my book," Harry said. "If Marilyn had just disappeared...instead of..." He broke off, swallowed hard, then continued. "Well."

Sarah nodded. "I know." They took a few more steps before she spoke again. "It was easier to think he was dead than that he just...didn't want me. That everything that had meant so much to me meant nothing to him. Everything we'd done together. Gone through together. Been to each other." The trail jogged, and when they turned the corner, they spotted the rest of their party up ahead. Galindor had obviously been keeping on eye on the back trail, and gave them a wave when he spotted them. They waved back, and kept meandering slowly up the trail as they talked. "And so many people died. Everywhere we went." Harry nodded, remembering the casualty count from the various trips he had been on with them. "It...hardened me." She ducked her head, staring at the ground, trusting her hold on Harry's arm to keep her going in the right direction. "I hated that," she said, almost in a whisper. "Meeting people. And creatures, sometimes. Good people. People you knew you would like if you had the chance to get to know them. But you didn't. Because...they died."

Harry nodded. "More would have died. If you...we...hadn't been there. If he hadn't been there."

"I know." She sighed and looked up again. "But...I couldn't grieve for them all. And the longer I travelled with him, the easier it was to just...let it go. Another death. Move on. Don't think about the person who died. His family. His friends. Just...move on."

"You became more and more like him," Harry said softly. Sarah glanced up at him quickly, saw nothing but compassion in his eyes, then nodded.

"So. Last night," she said, finding her thoughts about grief still hadn't led her to a good way to share what had happened. "It was...well. It knocked us both out." Harry raised his eyebrows at that. "Psychic overload, I suppose. He tried to shield me from the worst of it. Took it on himself as much as he could. I was really just the catalyst."

"Because you had...bonded?"

She nodded. "More than that. Because...well...because I'm human, I suppose. And because I'd never done anything like it before. He said I was more open than a Time Lady would be. Didn't know how to form boundaries." Harry's eyebrows went up again and she answered his unspoken question. "Just because you're bonded with someone doesn't mean you have to share all of yourself. If there are things you want to keep private, you put boundaries around them."

"Mental boundaries," Harry said.

She nodded. "And emotional. He had a big one around all that grief. But...he just...it...started to crumble. He couldn't keep it up. Not when I was so open." She shook her head, remembering his desperate fight to keep the pain at bay, to hold it in his hearts as he had done for so long, to protect her from it. "It just came pouring out. More than either of us could handle." Her mind drifted back to the night before. "I remember waking up...at least once...on the floor in the zero room. Looking over and seeing him, flat out too. Then. I must have passed out again, because next time I woke up, I was in the TARDIS infirmary. And he was gone."

Harry frowned. "He didn't even stick around to make sure you were okay?"

"He had checked me over with the TARDIS systems. Saw there was no permanent damage done."

"Well. That's reassuring."

She smiled, then sobered. "He left me a mental note."

"He what?" Harry laughed.

Sarah rethought what she'd just said, then laughed softly and repeated it. "He left me a mental note. Said he needed some time to put himself back together. Some space. And that he was going to have to block me...for my own protection...until he had." She ducked her head again, feeling tears threaten as she remembered the overwhelming guilt and self-loathing that had permeated his mental note. She had wanted so badly to reach out to him, to show him there was nothing to feel guilty about, to hold him in her heart and help him through this. But when she had tried, she found a brick wall where his mind and heart and spirit had been the day before. She backed off, honoring his decision, but hating it with everything in her.

"So that's why he's avoiding you?"

She nodded. "The closer we are, physically, the harder it is for him to block me. Touching, eye contact...more than he can handle at the moment." She paused, and ever so gently cast her heart in his direction, finding the wall still up. "Apparently that's also because I'm human." She gave Harry a crooked grin. "We're so physical."

He chuckled, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her gently. "We are, aren't we?" He sobered. "I wouldn't think it would be that hard for him to set up a new boundary. There's so much less to hold in now, since the dam burst." He looked down at her. "Isn't there?"

She nodded. "But there's still a lot. And that dam...that damn dam..." They both grinned. "Is in very small pieces."

They caught up to the others then, and tried to just focus on playing tourist, though Harry kept a close eye on her as the day progressed. The zoological gardens were enormous and endlessly fascinating, and Sarah tried to immerse herself in the experience of seeing them, glad to have something to take her mind off the echoing emptiness inside.

It would have taken days to visit every last corner of the zoo, she realized as they wandered through it, especially with the flock of chicks along. She was grateful they gave her an excuse to take it easy. She sat at every bench they came to, and as soon as she was seated, one of the little ones climbed into her lap.

Galindor sat next to her one time after a chick had nestled in her lap. "Do they cause you annoyance, Sarah Jane?" he asked, holding out one finger to the chick, who grasped his talon and held it.

She smiled down at the little one. "Not at all."

"They can be requested not to engage in this behavior."

She shook her head. "I really don't mind."

Galindor looked at her with his bright, unblinking eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Advise me if your feelings on the matter change."

"I will," she assured him. She held out a finger to the chick in her lap, and felt its soft fingers wrap around it. "They're actually rather soothing."

"They are aware that you are troubled," he said softly. "And wish to comfort you."

She looked up at him in surprise. "They can do that?"

"Did you not just say that they did?"

"Well, yes," she said. "But I thought...I didn't realize it was a...an ability they had."

"It is a gift all of our chicks have. Some few keep it throughout life, in varying degrees. But all have it before they reach maturity."

Sarah nodded, taking it in. "Are any...soothing the Doctor?" she asked softly.

Galindor was silent for a moment. "They are attempting to do so. Yes. He is proving difficult to soothe."

Sarah stroked the little chick's head and it looked up at her with bright eyes. Now that she was aware of it, she could feel the gentle comfort it was sending to her. "Please ask them to keep trying," she whispered.

* * *

Sarah kept hoping that the Doctor would get himself sorted and that, at any moment, she'd feel the block he'd put between them melt away, but as the day went on and nothing changed, her hope started to fade. The only emotion that came through the block was absolute misery, and after awhile, she began to question whether she was picking up on his feelings or if her own were being reflected back at her. It had been so amazing, so soul-satisfying, being bonded with him, having him sharing her skin, sharing hers with him, that, going back to what had been perfectly normal for her all her life was now nearly unbearable. She thought she had known what loneliness was. Now she knew better. This. This was loneliness. She understood why he had jumped, with barely a thought for the consequences, to bond with her as soon as he discovered he could. And she couldn't fault him for it, couldn't find it in her heart to blame him for anything that had happened as a result. Not now. Not when she knew what it had been like for him, all those years, rattling around in the aching emptiness of his own unbonded soul.

When the block finally did break down, she knew it immediately. But it wasn't the happy reunion she'd anticipated. She gasped, doubled over, and clutched at Harry's arm.

"Sarah. What is it?" He reached for her upper arms to support her, then remembered the bruises and held her by the shoulders instead.

She couldn't answer. She could barely breathe for the pain, the chaos, the fear, and, above all, over all, through all, the guilt that roared through her psyche.

It was over in a moment. The block slammed back into place with an effort of will that she knew had cost him dearly. But in that moment, that terrible moment, she had seen what he was deciding.

"He...he's going to..break the bond," she gasped. "Take me home. Leave me there." She looked up at Harry, green eyes full of anguish. "Forever."

Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it and just shook his head. He tried to pull her to him in a comforting embrace, but she just stood, trembling, too devastated for comfort.

They had been about to climb into one of Rohstan's vehicles for the trip home from the zoo when the block dissolved, and now Harry eased her down to sit on one of the running boards. Half of the flock of chicks had been travelling with them, and they immediately piled out of the vehicle and clustered around her, patting her arms, her hair, her cheeks. Galindor climbed out from behind the driver's seat and crouched next to her.

"What is disturbing you, Sarah Jane?" he asked softly.

Harry answered for her. "She's just...had some bad news."

Galindor's eyebrows furrowed. "How?"

Harry blew out a puff of air. "Don't ask me to explain it."

"Something to do with the Doctor?" Galindor asked Sarah. She just nodded tightly, unable to speak. "But...he and Martha Jones and Nunks and the rest of the chicks left moments ago in the other vehicle." She nodded again, raising her eyebrows and widening her eyes in an "I know" expression. Galindor stared at her for a long moment. "I am sorry, Sarah Jane. I would like to assist you but I do not know how."

She reached out to him and laid a hand on his downy forearm, shaking her head sorrowfully. "There's nothing..." Her voice failed her. She took a deep breath and stiffened her spine. "...nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do." She closed her eyes and felt again that momentary burst of desperate, dreadful decision. "Nothing," she repeated softly, hopelessly.

After a moment, she got shakily to her feet and, with Harry and Galindor's help, climbed into the vehicle. The chicks flocked in after them and, with Galindor at the controls, they headed back to Rohstan's home.

When they arrived, they started toward the house, but Sarah suddenly stopped.

"I...I can't go in there," she said, staring at the cream-colored ovoid structure where she had had such a wonderful evening the night before. "He's in there." She looked up at Harry. "I can't face him. Not now. Please...make my excuses."

Harry nodded reluctantly. "Where will you be? TARDIS?"

She shook her head. "I'll just...wait out here for awhile." She tried to put on a brave smile. "Watch the moon rise." _Brace myself_, she thought.

"I could bring you out a plate."

She shook her head again. "Not hungry. But thanks."

"I'll stay out here with you then."

She gave him a small smile. "No reason for us both to miss dinner. You go ahead."

He searched her face. "You sure?"

She nodded. "I need to get used to being alone again," she said, her voice breaking. Her eyes filled with tears and she turned away, so she didn't see the look Harry gave her, the look that promised she would never be alone again if he had anything to say about it. She dashed the tears away and walked off toward a small grove of lavender-leaved tree ferns that swayed gracefully at the far end of the house.

Harry watched her go, then sighed deeply, turned, and walked into the house.

"Where's Sarah?" Martha asked, seeing him come in alone after Galindor and the chicks had already entered minutes before.

The Doctor was lounging against the wall, one knee up, arms folded tightly across his chest, staring bleakly ahead of him, the dark circles under his eyes looking more like deep bruises in the soft lighting of the house than they had in the bright sunshine. When he heard Martha's question, his eyes slowly came into focus on Harry.

"She's outside. Wanted to...watch the moon rise," he said.

"I will send one of my grandchicks out to notify her when the evening meal is ready," Rohstan said.

"She's not hungry," Harry said, and Rohstan's eyebrows shot up. "We humans. You know. Don't need so many calories." He frowned with concern. "Is it considered rude in your culture to...decline hospitality?"

"You are our guests. Nothing you do is considered improper," Rohstan assured him. He glanced over at the Doctor, who had gone back to staring blankly off into the distance after he'd heard what Harry had to say. "But I am concerned about Sarah Jane," Rohstan added softly.

Harry nodded. The Doctor closed his eyes, took a deep, shaky breath, and rubbed his upper arms as if to ward off a sudden chill. When he opened his eyes again, he glanced wildly around the room, his mouth slightly open, his breath coming in tight gasps.

"Excuse me," he choked out. He strode to the door, flung it open, and hurled himself into the night.

Harry bit his upper lip, staring after him for a second, then started for the door, hot on his heels.

"Harry," Martha called softly. He paused and turned to look at her. She shook her head and compressed her lips. "Maybe...we should just let them work it out."

Harry stood, indecisive, for another second, then clenched his jaw and went after the Doctor.

The Time Lord was halfway across the lawn when Harry reached the door.

"Doctor," he barked. It was Commodore Sullivan giving orders now, not good old Harry making a request, and the Doctor reacted instinctively to the command in his voice. He spun on his heels and faced Harry, the tails of his pin-striped jacket swirling around his hips with the speed of his reaction.

"What?" he asked, the muscles in his jaw bunching, his eyes huge and tormented.

Those eyes silenced Harry for a moment. He hadn't had time to plan what he wanted to say, hadn't had the chance to think it through. So when the words came, they came straight from his heart.

"Don't hurt her."

The Doctor flinched as if Harry had slapped him. He bowed his head and ran both hands distractedly through his hair. His mobile face worked, and he finally gasped out one word. "How?"

"What?" Harry stared at him.

"How? How do I not hurt her?" the Doctor asked, his teeth clenched, his eyes screwed up in misery. He looked away, took a wrenching deep breath. "Tell me. Because she's the last person in the universe I want to hurt." He looked back at Harry as if grasping for a lifeline. "I protected her from Daleks. I protected her from Sontarans. From Cybermen." He raised his eyebrows in desperate appeal. "How do I protect her from myself?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. He looked away, but the image of the Doctor's lean, ravaged features wouldn't fade. "I can't answer that," he finally said, softly, regretfully. "As much as I would like to. It's not for me to say." He looked back at the Doctor, then dropped his eyes to the ground. "You need to look into your heart for that answer. Hearts," he corrected himself with a small ironic twist of his lips. "And you need to talk to her. Or...whatever it is you two do now. Instead of talking." He stood silently for a moment, then his shoulders sagged, and he turned and walked back to the house.


	20. Chapter 20

Sarah walked through the rapidly deepening dusk, grateful that this dreadful day was finally coming to an end, her vision blurred by the tears that she couldn't hold back. When she reached the small grove of ferns, whose frilly fronds stood a foot taller than her head, she parted their stems and ducked into the middle of them, a wounded animal seeking refuge, a den it could crawl into where it could hide until it either healed or died.

She nearly barked her shins on a small gazebo-like structure that was hidden within the grove. Two small white benches faced each other, connected by a graceful arched roof made of interlaced pieces of something that looked like roots or withes. She could see the moon rising through the gaps in the roof and sank gratefully down at the end of one of the benches. She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees to her chest, dropping her head onto them, making herself into the smallest, tightest ball of misery she could manage.

She lost all track of time. She knew what it felt like to have a Time Lord's sense of time, because she had shared one. But that was gone now. Gone along with everything else. Everything but the emptiness that was devouring her.

She didn't hear him arrive. She didn't have to. She just knew he was suddenly there, sitting silently at the far end of the other bench, katy-corner to her. She didn't raise her head at first, just let the feel of his presence soak into her, tasting the difference in the air when he was near. Finally, when he continued silent for what felt like eons, she looked up.

He sat, hunched over, his long arms resting on his thighs, his fingers intertwined, studying his hands as if they were a new life form he'd just discovered. His unruly brown hair fell forward in little spikey clumps, making her heart hurt with the need to touch him, to smooth that wild hair into a semblance of order. She bit her lip and bowed her head again, turning it to the side so her cheek rested on her knees. She closed her eyes.

"_Terza_." She thought he spoke, but it was so soft. He may have just sent the endearment straight to her heart. His heart. His third heart. "I am so sorry." This time she knew he spoke, because his voice was tight with emotion. "I never meant..."

"Don't," she said without lifting her head. "Please."

He fell silent again. She felt what it was costing him, felt it when he couldn't hold the words back any longer. "I was so arrogant. So selfish."

"Please. Don't." She finally lifted her head and looked at him. "You weren't."

He shook his head. "I thought I could...hold it in. Bond with you, but...only share the good parts. Keep everything else...locked away." He closed his eyes. "I'd done it so long. I never dreamed..."

"I know," she said softly. "I know." She let her head fall forward again, braced herself, and took a deep breath. "So." She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "How do you break the bond?"

"Why?" He sounded shocked and utterly stricken.

She looked up at him. "Because that's what you're planning to do. And I want to know what to expect."

"I'm not planning that," he rasped. "Why would you think.." His mouth fell open and his breath came out in a rush as he grabbed the sides of his head with both hands. "Oh, blimey. Sarah. No." She just looked at him, too wounded to hope. He shook his head vehemently. "No," he repeated.

"I heard you," she said. "At the zoo."

"You know why?" She shook her head. "Because just thinking about...that...had me so rattled I couldn't keep the block up."

Maybe there was a shred of hope. "Then why were you thinking about it?"

"Because it's what I should do. Obviously. To keep you safe. The only way. But...I told you. I'm way too selfish for that."

A small, uncertain laugh forced its way out of her, followed by another. "So. You...want to stay bonded?"

"Oh, how can you even ask?" he said, his voice as warm as a summer's day, rich as honey.

"Well. I have to. Because you're blocking me."

He shook his head, and she saw the corners of his mouth start to curl up. "Not any more. Not since...a little while ago. After I got some good advice from an old friend."

"Then...why can't I....?"

He ducked his head, then looked up at her from under raised eyebrows. "You're blocking me now."

She sat up straight and stared at him in total shock and denial. "Am not!" His lips twitched and he tipped his head to the side, his look saying "yes you are". "I don't even know how to block you."

He quickly sobered. "Some part of your mind...your heart...figured it out." He gave her a crooked smile. "Self-protection is a marvelous teacher."

"Well..." She gave a frustrated, impatient huff. "How do I stop?"

"Do you want to?" he asked softly, hopefully.

"Oh, how can you even ask?"

He laughed softly, echoing her words from a moment before. "I have to. You're blocking me."

She looked inside herself, searching for something that felt like a block, a brick wall, anything that stood between her and him. After a moment, she looked up at him, shaking her head, baffled.

He laughed, but with deep affection. "You humans. You're so physical." He stretched out a hand to her. "Maybe if we touch it will help."

She looked at his strong, elegant hand for a moment, then reached out. At the last moment before they touched, she hesitated, looking into his eyes. He nodded encouragement, and she grasped his hand.

Her eyes went wide and the air whooshed out of her lungs as the block she didn't know she had put up dissolved at his touch. She heard his relieved, open-mouthed laugh and saw his teeth shining white in the moonlight. They pulled each other up off the benches and crushed each other in an embrace that tried to bring their bodies as close as their minds and hearts were, once again.

Suddenly, he pulled away and looked down at her, eyebrows furrowed. "Oh," he said emphatically. "That is _urgent_."

Sarah looked inside herself, found what he'd found, and laughed. "You bet it is." She reached up, twined her fingers through his hair on both sides of his head, and pulled his face down to hers for a very human kiss.

It wasn't a human kiss, though, she realized when their lips met. Not anymore. It didn't waken those human desires and needs in her that a Time Lord didn't share and couldn't--or wouldn't--satisfy. But as their lips melded this time, it was as if that melding, that physical merging, intensified the melding and merging of their hearts and minds and souls, strengthening the bond between them. He felt it too, she knew, and, hungry to mend the bond, he kissed her thoroughly, deeply, and very enthusiastically.

She finally pulled away, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Whoa," she said, catching her breath.

"Whoa," he echoed softly, with a huge grin, mocking her with great affection and satisfaction. Then his face fell and his eyes grew huge and worried. "Whoa," he said, with an entirely different intonation, his face sober.

"What?" she asked, too overwhelmed to figure it out herself.

In answer, he picked up her hand and placed it flat on his chest. At first she didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, but she focussed, and then realized....

"You're purring!"

He nodded, looking very shocked and slightly horrified. "And you didn't even touch my shoulders."

She pooched out her bottom lip. "I certainly did kiss you, though." She laughed, then blew out an appreciative breath. "And you certainly did kiss me." She furrowed her eyebrows at him, tipping her head up to look him in the eye. "You aren't as inexperienced as you let on when it comes to kissing."

"I'm...clever," he said offhandedly, obviously more concerned about the purr. "I'm a quick study." He placed his hand on his chest, fingers splayed, and checked again for the telltale vibration. She could hear it now. His upper lip curled and his eyes went dark. "That's not supposed to happen."

"Maybe you're adapting."

His lip curled even more and he looked mildly disgusted. "Adapting to...kissing?"

She laughed at him and his face-pulling. "You bond with a human, you don't know what might happen. Didn't you say it had never been done?"

He frowned down at her, then nodded. Then his features relaxed, his expression cleared and he laughed. "No wonder the Time Lords banned interspecies bonding."

She put her arms around his waist and pressed her ear to his chest. "It's stopped." He blew out a relieved breath and she looked up at him in amusement. "Why does it bother you so much?"

He raised one eyebrow. "You know I don't like to purr in public."

"Then don't kiss in public." She grinned. "One doesn't, generally, after all. Unless one is...seventeen and just can't help it."

He frowned. "But...I told you how random human females seem to want to kiss me ever since my last regeneration."

She gave him a light squeeze around the waist. "And you think random kisses like that would make you purr?" He twisted his lips to the side and gave her a thoughtful look. "When Rose's mum kissed you, did you feel like purring?" His face was a study in horror at that suggestion, and she couldn't help laughing. "Besides, that wasn't a proper purr."

He gave a small snort of laughter. "It wasn't?"

She shook her head. "That was just a...a hiccup of a purr. Or a..." Her brows furrowed and she pressed her ear to his chest again. "..a stomach rumble." She looked up at him. "You hungry?"

"Time Lords' stomachs do not rumble," he said emphatically. "That's a human thing."

"Oh." She stepped back from him, put a hand on her stomach and looked down at it questioningly.

"You hungry?" he asked with a soft laugh.

"I'm starving," she said. "Suppose they've left us anything?"

"With the amount of food they put on? I should think so." He took her hand and with his other arm held the ferns aside for her. "Let's go see."

When they entered the house, hand in hand, both smiling happily, Sarah could almost hear the sigh of relief from all their friends. The table had been cleared, but the hens quickly put on a second supper for them, clucking over their protests that it was fine, they were happy to do it, and wasn't there anything else they could get for them? Harry, Martha, Rohstan and Galindor kept them company while they ate, all but Martha picking choice tidbits out of the new bowls of food that the hens brought out for the Doctor and Sarah.

Sarah had a strong feeling that the talk had been all about them while they were absent from the gathering, as everyone now chatted happily about their zoo visit as if it were fresh conversational territory. She ate and talked and laughed. She laughed a lot, in fact. Everything was right with the world again--with the universe--and the joy of feeling the bond in place, stronger than ever after all they'd been through, made her nearly giddy with relief and delight. Her dancing eyes met Harry's at one point and he gave her a wistful smile and raised his eyebrows questioningly. She smiled and nodded in response.

When the evening drew to a close, they all strolled across the lawn to the TARDIS.

"Are you leaving now, Doctor?" Rohstan asked.

"Oh. In the morning, I think. If you don't mind," he added quickly.

The scientist shook his head. "You may park your device in front of my habitation for a long as you desire."

"Thank you," the Doctor smiled. Then he looked around at his companions. "Martha. Don't suppose it matters to you one way or the other." She shook her head with a smile. "Harry? Another night in the TARDIS?"

"Fine with me," Harry said. "Better than Sarah's couch, which is where I'd end up sleeping if you took us home now."

The Doctor acknowledged his comment with a smile and a nod, then looked at Sarah. They silently exchanged glances for a moment. "Right," he said, turning back to Rohstan. "In the morning it is."

"We will be here to exchange farewells, then," Galindor chimed in.

"Ooh, I hate goodbyes," the Doctor muttered under his breath.

"You have promised to return, Doctor. This will not be goodbye," Rohstan pointed out.

The Doctor thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. In the morning."

Sarah and Martha gave Galindor a good-night hug, and the others shook hands or waved, then Galindor and Rohstan headed back toward the house while the humans turned and followed the Doctor into the TARDIS. Harry and Martha said goodnight at the top of the ramp and headed off to their quarters, leaving Sarah and the Doctor alone in the console room.

She closed her eyes and sent her heart into his, called his into her, and just stood in total contentment for a long moment. When she opened her eyes, she saw he was watching her with a soft smile that made his lean features practically glow.

"Zero room?" she asked tentatively.

He compressed his lips and sighed. "Maybe not."

"Bit too...?"

He nodded. "Still not entirely...."

She nodded her understanding. "May I?" she asked gently.

His smile faded a bit, and the tired lines around his eyes grew deeper and more noticeable. "Of course."

She stepped up to him and put her hand on his chest. She knew she didn't have to touch him to do what she wanted to do, but, well...._We humans really are physical_, she thought, and felt a smile in his hearts. _I like touching you_.

His arms came up and pulled her close, and she felt his cheek rest gently on top of her head. She closed her eyes and sent her spirit into his.

She found the newly restored boundary quickly. She circled it, careful not to probe. She had noticed the old one, before it crumbled, but, not fully understanding about boundaries, had just let it be, just moved on to the parts of him that were open, that he clearly wanted to share with her. She knew his boundaries shielded things that he didn't want to share, and she respected them as she respected him.

The new boundary wasn't as dark as the old one, and the space it enclosed was much smaller.

"It did help, then," she murmured against his chest, not opening her eyes.

He swallowed hard. "More than I could possibly say." A huge wave of gratitude washed through her and she felt his arms tighten around her. Then he pulled back and she looked up at him. "Hell of a way to do it," he said with a crooked smile.

She tipped her head from side to side, dismissing the ripples of regret she felt coming from him. "As long as it got done." She put both hands on his chest this time. "We'll work on the rest."

He widened his eyes. "Not tonight."

She gave a soft laugh. "No." She shook her head ruefully. "Not tonight. But...whenever you come for a visit. We'll work on it. A bit at a time. Until it's all gone."

Another blanket of gratitude wrapped around her soul and she felt him pull her close. It was a good thing he didn't need words to tell her what that promise meant to him, because she knew he would have had trouble choking any out at that moment. She felt the effort he put into bringing his emotions under control. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair, his voice still rough. "It won't be like this time. Not again. I promise."

"I know," she whispered back. "I know." This time had been like lancing a boil, spilling out the hard-held grief that had been festering in his soul for so long. Future sessions would be the way they were meant to be--sad, of course, but not overwhelming, not the uncontrolled release that had knocked them both into oblivion. And when they were through, he could finally be free, could finally move on.

She drank in his gratitude, letting it heal the hurts of last night, and then turned her attention back to the new boundary. Instead of dark, dark grey, shading to black in the convolutions, it was now a lighter, pinkish grey and slightly transparent. She moved closer, touched it with her mind.

"Ah." He shuddered and gave a small gasp of pain. "Easy."

"Sorry," she said, opening her eyes and looking up into his. "But there's something here..."

"What?" His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes went out of focus, following her spirit into his.

"Here." She showed him. "Wouldn't that help?"

He nodded. Then he swallowed and nodded again. "It would. But..."

"You need to do it." Her voice was gentle, encouraging.

"I do," he agreed. "I've needed to...oh, for such a long time. But I can't do it alone," he said. "And I can't ask you... Not after...."

She stood silently, carefully examining what she'd found. He winced again and she lightened her touch. "We could try. And...if it's too much...we'll stop."

He reached out and stroked her hair, his features working. "I don't want to put you through any more." He raised his eyebrows and took a shaky breath. "This isn't why I bonded with you."

"I know," she said softly. "But...well. When humans bond. We take a vow that it's for better or for worse."

He nodded slowly. "We had something along those lines too." He blew out a deep breath. "But I don't think anyone--on Earth or on Gallifrey--ever had this sort of worse in mind."


	21. Chapter 21

"Come on," Sarah said, taking him by the hand and leading him through the coral arch that opened off the console room.

Together they wandered through room after room, arch after arch, finally stopping in one archway.

"Oh, she did a beautiful job," Sarah said softly, taking in the room in front of them. It was suffused with a soft amber glow from the roundels on the gently curving coral walls. A baby grand piano took pride of place in the center of the room, a black padded leather bench seat in front of it. To one side, a maroon leather overstuffed chair-and-a-half stood in the perfect position for curling up and listening to the piano. On the other side crouched a musical instrument Sarah had never seen before, but recognized instantly through her bond with the Doctor.

He led her to the piano bench and they sat, side-by-side, as he lifted the cover off the keys. His long fingers glided over the keyboard in a series of arpeggios, then danced in a quick rendering of Chopsticks. She laughed and bumped him lightly with her shoulder, and he grinned and settled down to play in earnest.

He ran through all of her favorites from the old days--the Venusian lullaby he had used to sooth Aggedor, that had always sounded remarkably like _God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen_ to her earthling ears; the folk songs of Skaro that he had compiled into a medley in hopes of preserving some small part of the Kaleds' pre-Dalek culture for the ages; the strangely appealing atonal chants of the Exxilon priesthood that had nearly provided the soundtrack to her ritual sacrifice. Sitting safe in the TARDIS beside him, she could hear the alien beauty of it, finally divorced from the terror it had once invoked.

His fingers slowed, then came to rest on the keys, the last notes resonating in the perfect acoustics of this new music room that the TARDIS had grown. They both knew the time had come.

They rose and walked over to the other large instrument in the room. It stood four-square, about five feet tall, four wide and two deep. Each side had multiple levels of xylophone-like rows of bars, each level made from a different material--wood, metal, something that looked suspiciously like bone, and something else Sarah couldn't begin to identify without delving into the Doctor's mind. She didn't want to distract him now, as he faced this trial, so she let it go.

Above the rows of bars hung silver tubes of varying sizes and lengths. She reached up and gently ran her hand along them, causing them to swing and strike each other and sound their clear, pure tones. Sarah closed her eyes, the better to listen. When she opened them, she saw the Doctor's warm brown eyes focussed on hers, concern darkening them.

"_Terza_," he said, taking her hands. "If we do this, I have to tell you. In words. And with my hearts. Because it's so important." He stopped, bowed his head and closed his eyes for a long moment before looking back up at her. "I've done this before. Not on this scale, of course. But...even when it was just for one person, it was...totally absorbing." She nodded her understanding. "I will try...very hard...to be aware of you." He shook his head and tried again to get the right words out. "I mean...to be aware of your needs." He smiled a warm, sad smile. "I'm always aware of you. I couldn't do this without you."

He blew out a breath and dropped one of her hands long enough to run his fingers through his hair. "Blimey. What I'm trying to say is--stop me. If it gets too hard, or too bad. Because I...I'll try, I really will...but...I may not be able to stop myself." His hearts begged her to understand and not to judge. She felt his hesitation, and his need--his need to do this, finely balanced against his need to keep her safe, to not ask too much of her love.

"I understand," she said softly, reinforcing the words with her heart and mind. "I will."

With a last long look deep into her eyes, he stepped around the instrument until he stood opposite her, two layers of bars and hanging tubes separating them. He picked up a pair of mallets from the side of the instrument and gave her a slight nod. She looked and saw another pair hanging on her side. She picked them up, one in each hand, and looked at him.

She felt him opening his hearts to her, and she let herself drift into him. Her hands became his to use. Together, they started to play.

As the harmonies formed and rose and suffused the room, Sarah gasped. An image of her Aunt Lavinia appeared unbidden in her mind's eye, as lifelike as if she were actually there. Aunt Lavinia in her younger days, a bit overwhelmed with the duty of caring for her brother's daughter's child. Aunt Lavinia as Sarah grew into a young woman, someone she could talk to, be proud of. Sarah thought she had done her grieving for her aunt, her only family, long before, but the ringing tones of the Gallifreyan instrument opened her heart again, recalled the pain of loss, then soothed it. As tears rolled down her cheeks, she felt her heart--her hearts, all three of them--say a final goodbye.

More images appeared in her mind then, one by one. Faces. Regal faces, plain faces, smiling faces, stern faces. Time Lords and Time Ladies. His memories of them paraded through their shared consciousness. Before they had started playing, the only one she had known and truly grieved for had been Cho Je, the wise and friendly Time Lord who had come to earth to masquerade as a monk and share his wisdom. He had saved the Doctor's life by giving his regeneration a "little push", as he had put it. She had loved him for that. Now his face appeared before her, smiling, nodding, and she felt the music purging her soul of all bitterness, all regret surrounding his death, leaving pure, clean grief, then soothing that grief. And he was just one, one of so very many.

* * *

In his quarters, Harry Sullivan lay dreaming. His dear wife, Marilyn, was smiling at him, that smile that had warmed his soul from the first moment he had seen it. Even when it was a frail shadow of itself, as she lay dying, and he sat helpless by her side, holding her hand, that smile had had the power to light up his world.

His eyes suddenly snapped open and he stared around the coral bed chamber in confusion. The walls glowed softly as the TARDIS responded to his waking. As his senses probed his surroundings he became aware of a sound echoing through the ship. Some sort of music. Alien but...compelling.

Throwing off the covers, he climbed out of bed and headed through the door into the corridor.

* * *

"Gran!" Martha Jones called out involuntarily, waking herself. She stared around her room, breathing as if she'd been running, then gradually calming. Her Gran had been there...or had it been a dream? She missed her so. The calm eye of the hurricane that was her family. Her refuge, her strength. Gone. The grief hit her again as if she'd just learned of her Gran's death. The regret that she'd never told her how much she loved her, how much her support had meant to her. Then, that regret faded away, and all she felt was sorrow that her Gran was gone. She heard the music and lay still, listening, for long moments before it tore her, too, from her bed and sent her out into the corridor.

She saw Harry right away, standing bemused in his pajama trousers, his curly hair tousled. Their eyes met, and without a thought, they went into each other's arms. They clung together for comfort for a long moment, then stepped back from each other. "What is it?" Martha asked softly as the music continued.

Harry shook his head, his eyes troubled. "Come on," he said, and padded down the corridor in his bare feet, ears straining to find the source of the unearthly music. Martha followed him a second later.

* * *

"Husband," whispered one of Rohstan's hens. She gently shook him awake. He looked up to see all four of his hens surrounding him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There is a sound. An alien sound. Outside."

He shook his head to clear the sleep from it, then stood up and stepped down from his perch. "Let us analyze and resolve it," he said as he strode out of the house, his hens behind him.

He stood in the bright moonlight, listening to the music coming from the Doctor's time ship. His hens gathered round him, all holding each other and him tightly. And through every mind drifted images of lost loved ones, parents, nestmates, the chick who had failed to thrive. They were there, once more, as if alive. Then the music soothed the grief, enabled them to say a final goodbye.

Throughout the neighborhood, little clutches of people stood, clinging to each other, listening to the music of the aliens, remembering, grieving, healing.

* * *

Harry stopped so suddenly Martha nearly ran into his back. "I think this dratted ship is playing games with us," he said grumpily. "I could swear we've been here before."

"Got any breadcrumbs?" Martha asked. He gave her a puzzled frown. "For leaving a trail," she said softly, ducking her head.

"Mmm," Harry said. "No. But not a bad idea." She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Not breadcrumbs," he clarified with an ironic twist of his lips. "Leaving a trail." He continued on, through a room he was sure they'd been through at least twice before. "Let's see what we can find that would work."

But a determined TARDIS can thwart even the best laid and executed plans of its human passengers. They tried marking the walls, but the marks quickly faded and again they were sure they were being led in circles but with no way to prove it. They found a big ball of string and tied one end to a coral column, letting it out gradually as they walked only to discover, after they had gone further than the ball should have allowed them to go, that it had apparently untied itself, as the end came dragging along behind them when they tested it with a gentle pull. They finally came to a room they hadn't been in before, a room appointed with comfortable furniture that practically invited them to sit and wait, so they did. The haunting music continued.

* * *

The Doctor dropped his mallets and stepped around the instrument. He put an arm around Sarah's back and another under her knees, and lifted her into his arms. "Apparently I didn't make myself entirely clear," he whispered in her ear as he carried her to the maroon leather chair. "The idea was to stop me before you were on the verge of collapsing."

"I wasn't on the verge of collapsing," she answered, eyes at half mast, snuggling into his chest. He sank into the chair, still holding her, and she curled up in his lap, one hand pressed to his chest. "I could have gone another, oh, thirty seconds. Easy."

He laughed ruefully, then stroked her hair. "Sleep, _terza_," he said in his most soothing tones. "Just sleep. No dreams. Just...rest."

She roused herself enough to look into his eyes. "Are you hypnotizing me?"

"Sort of," he said. She raised her eyebrows at him. "OK. Yes. I am."

"Why?"

He pushed a strand of hair off her forehead with a gentle hand. "So what we just did won't haunt your sleep. You need to rest."

"Try stopping me," she said, her eyes closing.

His lips curled in a slow smile. "You always were a good subject." She didn't hear his praise as she had already fallen into a dreamless sleep. He hugged her tightly, then let his head fall back onto the top of the chair and closed his eyes.

* * *

When the music finally stopped, Harry looked around and stood up. "Come on," he said again to Martha. "Maybe now she'll let us find them. The concert seems to be over." And this time, when they headed out into the maze of corridors, arches and coral chambers, they walked straight to the music room.

They stopped in the doorway and stared at the sight before them, Sarah lying limp in the Doctor's arms, the Doctor with his head thrown back and rolled to the side, eyes closed, lips parted. "God, what's he done to her now," Harry said under his breath, then hurried into the room. He crouched down in front of the chair and gently placed two fingers on Sarah's throat, feeling for a pulse.

"She's fine, Harry." The Doctor's voice was barely a whisper. He slowly raised his head and looked at Harry with exhausted eyes. "Just sleeping." He blinked and licked his lips. "I didn't hurt her. Just..." He looked down at Sarah's face. "...wore her out."

"Looks like you didn't do yourself any favors either," Martha said softly as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Actually," he said, his words coming slowly. "I did. Sarah did. A tremendous favor." His eyes drifted closed again.

"Are you alright?" Martha asked, worry in her voice.

He nodded without opening his eyes. "More alright than I've been in a very long time. More than I thought I'd ever be again."

* * *

With a whoosh and a groan and a wheeze, the TARDIS materialized in her favorite spot in Sarah's living room. The doors opened, and Harry, Martha and Sarah stepped out. The Doctor appeared behind them but didn't exit. He stood in the doorway, slouched against the frame, his arms folded over his chest.

He had slowed time down throughout the TARDIS after Martha and Harry had found him and Sarah in the music room so they could all get a good night's sleep, despite being wakened by his and Sarah's requiem for the Time Lords. Their goodbyes to their host had turned into a full breakfast, at the hens' insistence, so they arrived back on earth well rested and well fed.

Harry flipped his phone open. "Well?" the Doctor said, one eyebrow cocked.

"Erm...just checking for messages."

"Mmm-hmm. What day is it?"

Harry looked at him sheepishly, then looked at the phone. "Exactly three days since we left."

"Well done, Doctor," Sarah said to Harry, coaching him.

"Erm, yes. Well done," Harry said.

The Doctor chuckled and accepted the praise with a slow nod.

"Martha," Sarah said. She beamed at the younger woman. "I am so glad I met you."

"Oh, me too," Martha said, looking from Sarah to Harry. "Both of you." She gave Harry a hug, then Sarah. "Before I met you, I, well...there were times I thought I was going mad." She glanced over her shoulder at the TARDIS and the TIme Lord lounging in her doorway, then looked back at Sarah and Harry. "Now I know...if I am...at least I'm in good company."

Sarah laughed and hugged Martha tightly. "Take care of him," she whispered in her ear, then stepped back and gave her a direct look. Martha nodded, her heart in her eyes. "And if you ever need anything--find me."

"Or me," Harry said. "And don't go gallavanting around the universe with himself forever," he added, nodding toward the Doctor. "You finish up your studies and earn your degree."

"I will," she promised. She looked over her shoulder again and the Doctor raised his eyebrows at her. "Some day," she added, turning back to Harry.

They all stood in awkward silence for a moment. "Well," Martha finally said brightly. "I'll just wait in the TARDIS." She smiled at them again, then slipped past the Doctor and disappeared into his ship.

Harry looked from Sarah to the Doctor. "Erm. I'll just...go put the kettle on," he said, pooching out his bottom lip and pointing toward the kitchen. When neither of them responded, he nodded. "Right." He strode off to the kitchen without a backward glance.

Sarah glanced up at the Doctor, then turned away, looking out the window at her garden, seeing nothing but him. "This is the part I hate," she said, her voice threatening to break.

He was there behind her in three steps, wrapping his arms around her neck, resting his chin on top of her head. "Me too," he answered softly. He closed his eyes and just held her in his arms and in his hearts for a long moment. "But it won't be so bad this time."

She turned to face him, still within the circle of his arms. "Why?"

His lips curled into a smile. "Because we're bonded. A part of you will go with me when I leave. And a part of me will stay with you."

She thought about that for a second. "No matter how far away you go?"

He shook his head. "No matter. End of the universe, end of time." He reached out and touched her cheek gently. "Won't be the same as being together. But...it won't be the same as being alone, either."

"Does it fade, though?" Sarah asked. "Over time? If we can't be together?"

He nodded reluctantly. "It does. But...gradually. If the only reason you aren't together is because you can't be. But you want to be." He looked into her eyes. "I'll be back before that can happen. I promise."

She had to turn away from those earnest brown eyes and back to the window before she broke down completely. "You'd better go then," she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. "So you can come back. Soon."

She felt his arms tighten around her and felt his mind and hearts, spirit and soul, flow through her, as if taking a long last look, trying to memorize her. She opened herself to him totally, without reserve, sending her heart into his.

Then his arms loosened, and then they were gone. She heard the TARDIS doors close softly, but she kept her eyes on the scene outside her window. She heard the time ship wheeze and groan, felt the wind that it stirred up as it dematerialized.

Then he was gone.

She hugged herself tightly and stared out the window, biting her lip, feeling as if her heart had just been ripped from her body.

"Erm..." Harry popped his head out of the kitchen door, confirmed that the TARDIS was no longer there, and walked slowly up behind her. He stood silently, watching her, for a moment. "Are you crying?"

Sarah shook her head, then held up her hand with the thumb and forefinger almost touching.

"That close, eh?"

She nodded.

"Don't suppose a hug would be a good idea then. Open the floodgates and all."

She nodded again, more vigorously.

Harry smiled and stepped up to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She held out for a second, then turned and buried her face in his chest and let the tears come. He rubbed her back comfortingly. "I know. I know," he assured her. "It's hard landing back in Kansas after you've been to Oz." She looked up at him and laughed through her tears. He smiled wistfully down at her. "Especially when you're in love with the Wizard," he added with a lift of his eyebrows.

She rubbed the tears from her cheeks and smiled. "Well. He is a wiz of a wiz, you have to admit that."

"If ever a wiz there was," Harry agreed wholeheartedly. He looked at her thoughtfully. "So. What does that make me? Cowardly lion? Scarecrow? Tin woodman?"

"You?" She laughed and hugged him hard. "Harry, you're all of them rolled into one." She tipped her head up and to one side and searched his face appraisingly. "You're brave and you're smart and...you have the kindest heart of anyone I've ever known."

"But I'm still black and white," he said, a smile softening his words.

Sarah sobered and looked at him sadly. "Aren't we all." She shook her head. "The whole world's black and white when he's not around." She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling again the wrench of his leaving.

"So," Harry said, his eyes teasing her gently. "How long will the mope be this time?"

She opened her eyes and frowned at him in puzzlement. "What mope?"

"Your the-Doctor's-gone mope. It was a good three days last time."

She stepped back and stared at him, her jaw dropping. "I did not mope," she said, putting an emphatic twist on the word, "...for three days after he left last time."

"You didn't answer your phone. Or return messages."

Some of the indignant starch went out of her spine. "I was busy. Had a lot of catching up to do. Deadlines."

"Mmm-hmm," Harry said. They stared at each other for a long moment, then Harry grinned. "Cuppa? I put the kettle on."

"Might as well," Sarah said. They started toward the kitchen.

"So. Thor must be Toto then," he said.

She stopped and stared at him. "Thor? Heavens no. He's much too big." She started walking again as his eyebrows went up. "K-9 is Toto."

He stopped this time. "K-9? He can't be Toto. He's from Oz."

Sarah kept walking. "Well, at least he could zap the flying monkeys. Thor would just play with them."

Harry hurried to catch up with her. "Would not."

"Would too."

"Would not."

Sarah laughed and shook her head as they reached the kitchen door.

"Would too," she said, then ducked inside.

"Would not!" Harry cried, right behind her.

THE END

BUT WAIT--THERE"S MORE!

Please stay tuned for the epilogue, coming soon!


	22. Epilogue

She picked up on the second ring. "Good morning, Harry."

He smiled at her just-ever-so-slightly oversweet tone. "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Just fine, thank you. Your predicted mope seems to be a non-starter."

He grinned and looked over his shoulder, then pulled into the right lane. "Dinner and a movie last night probably helped."

He heard the smile in her voice. "It did. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"You back to work today?"

"No, I'm off to Cardiff."

The line went dead for a moment. "Cardiff? Why?"

"Meeting with the head of Torchwood."

Silence. Then again, worry plain in her voice this time, she asked, "Why?"

"They almost killed you, Sarah."

"Harry. Don't do this for me. I don't want you putting yourself in danger..."

"No danger," he interrupted her. "Just a meeting."

He heard her sigh. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Very," he said emphatically.

She sighed again, more deeply. "Well. Call me when it's over. So I'll know you survived."

"I plan to."

"Which? Call or survive?"

He grinned. "Both."

"Be careful."

"Always am."

* * *

Harry stood in Roald Dahl Plass, ramrod straight, in full dress uniform, arms folded over his chest, staring intently at the waterfall. He saw a paving stone drop and slide to the side, and then saw a man in a long, blue, vaguely military-style overcoat rise up out of the opening. When he was level with the pavement, he stood for a moment, staring at Harry. Blue eyes locked on blue eyes.

"Perception filter doesn't work on you, eh?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well," the man said, pasting a bright smile--a very bright smile--on his face and stepping off the elevator stone. "You must be Commodore Sullivan." He held out a hand.

Harry didn't even look at the hand. His gaze drilled into the other man's blue eyes and he kept his arms folded. "And you are?"

The hand was withdrawn but the smile never wavered. "Captain Jack Harkness."

"Captain of what?" Harry's voice dripped disdain.

Jack squirmed a bit. "It's...more of an honorary title actually."

Harry nodded slightly. "Well. _Mister _Harkness. I'm here to make one thing crystal clear to you. And that is that you are never, repeat, never to cause Sarah Jane Smith or her friends any more trouble."

The smiled disappeared. Jack sighed and shook his head ruefully. "Is she alright?" he asked softly.

Harry studied his face. The question seemed to spring from real concern, not just worry over how much trouble he might be in. "She is. No thanks to you and your team."

"Thank God," Jack whispered. He looked up at Harry. "I never meant to hurt her. I just wanted to talk to her."

"So it's Torchwood policy to abduct people they want to talk to?"

"No," Jack said miserably. "Not at all. But...she was parading around London with an obvious alien. We didn't know what the situation was. And then, I found out she was a friend of the Doctor..."

"As I said," Harry interrupted. "Ms. Smith _and _her friends. Leave them alone. All of them."

Jack stared at him, the wheels turning busily behind his eyes. "You know the Doctor?"

Harry just stared at him, his eyes giving nothing away.

"I need to find him," Jack pleaded desperately.

"No you don't," Harry contradicted him emphatically. "Despite what you people seem to think, he is the best friend this planet has ever had." He straightened his already straight spine and gave Jack his most commanding stare. "You may be separate from the government, outside the police, and beyond the United Nations, but you will quickly find you are not beyond the reach of the Doctor's friends if you try to capture him or harm him in any way."

"Oh, God," Jack said, tearing at his hair in distraction. "That's the last thing I want to do. I just want to talk to him."

"Mmm--hmm," Harry said skeptically. "The way you just wanted to talk to Ms. Smith."

Jack closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around his chest and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "I've been looking for him for hundreds of years," he finally said, his voice calmer.

"Why?" Harry asked. "If you don't think he's an enemy of the planet."

Jack laughed softly, and gave Harry a crooked grin. "You see through perception filters. You don't blink an eye when I say I've been looking for him for centuries, even though I don't look a day over thirty." Harry crooked an eyebrow at him at that. "OK, thirty-five," Jack amended his statement reluctantly. "You know him. Don't you?" Harry stared at him impassively. "I need to ask him..." He swallowed hard, his features working. "Why he abandoned me. Why he left me behind."

Harry stared at the man in front of him and felt his anger start to dissolve. "You travelled with him?" he finally asked.

"Yes," Jack answered in a tone halfway between bitterness and pride.

"When?"

Jack looked at him. "I met him in the 1940s. In the middle of your World War Two. Is that what you mean?"

Harry shook his head. "No." He thought for a second, trying to come up with a way to ask when Jack travelled with the Doctor that would make sense when talking about a time traveller. "What did he look like?"

Jack's eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. "You mean...age-wise?" He pooched out his lips thoughtfully. "He looked...oh, I don't know. Early 40s? If he were human?"

Harry shook his head again. "No. I mean...what did he look like. Describe him. What did he wear?"

"Oh," Jack said. "Tall. Well-built. Kept his hair very short. Rugged features. Ears...well, let's just say if he could flap them he wouldn't need the TARDIS to fly." He grinned briefly, then sobered as he looked into Harry's eyes. "And he wore jeans and boots and a black leather jacket."

"And did anyone else travel with you?"

"Yes," Jack answered softly, his eyes going out of focus. "A girl named Rose."

"Rose," Harry echoed. He nodded. He looked Jack up and down, but it was an appraisal this time, a sympathetic appraisal, not a judgement. "Mister Harkness." He stopped, compressed his lips, then started over. "Captain Harkness." He looked around the plass. "There appear to be better places to have this conversation than standing in the middle of this plaza."

Jack's eyes snapped wide and he straightened. "Can I buy you a drink, Commodore?"

Harry sighed and let go of the last of his prejudice against the man. "I think you should. And the name is Harry."

* * *

Sarah hung up the phone with a worried frown. She really wished Harry hadn't taken it upon himself to play the Lone Ranger and confront Torchwood on their own turf. All she needed was to lose both of the men in her life within a twenty-four hour period...

She jerked herself up short out of that train of thought. She wasn't going to lose Harry, she told herself emphatically. He was just going to talk. He knew how to handle people and knew how to handle himself. He would be just fine.

And she hadn't lost the Doctor either. She smiled at that thought, and lightly touched a hand to her chest. He was in there. She could feel him. He was right, it wasn't like being together. She couldn't hear what he was hearing or see what he was seeing. She didn't know what he was thinking. But it also wasn't like being alone again. It was just...a feeling of him that she could tap into when she tried. When she needed to. When she felt that 'mope' of Harry's coming on.

Oh, she needed to find words for this. "A feeling of him" just wasn't good enough. She fired up the computer and waited for it to load, fingers on the keyboard, ready to do what she did best.

* * *

_"Get down!"_

_Martha flung herself down as an energy bolt sizzled above her, barely missing her._

_The Doctor's hands flew over the console as he frantically scanned monitors. "They're following us. They can follow us wherever we go. Right across the universe. And they're never going to stop."_

_* * *  
_

Sarah's time sense had been greatly improved through her bonding with the Doctor, but it didn't help when it came to writing. She still got lost in her work. When the thought of a cup of tea finally became insistent, she hit save, stood up, stretched her stiff muscles, and checked the time. She frowned when she saw how late it was, and picked up her phone. Yes it was on. No, there were no messages.

With a sigh, she headed to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

* * *

_"Martha, this watch is me." The Doctor held up a fob watch with a peculiar design etched in the case._

_"Right. Okay. Gotcha." He ran around to the other side of the console and after a moment, she followed him. "No, hold on, completely lost."_

_"Those creatures are hunters," he explained. "They can sniff out anyone. And me being a Time Lord, well, I'm unique. They could track me down across the whole of time and space."_

_She took that on board, but not happily. "And the good news is?"_

_"They can smell me, but they haven't seen me and their life supplies are running out. So we hide. Wait for them to die."_

_"But they can track us down."_

_"That's why I've got to do it. I have to stop being a Time Lord."_

* * *

Sarah carried her cup of tea back to her desk, set it next to the computer, and re-read the last page she had written. She changed a word here, tinkered with a sentence there, and long before the tea was gone, she was once again immersed in her writing.

* * *

_An oddly-shaped contraption descended from the ceiling of the console room. "Chameleon arch," the Doctor commented as he watched it come within his reach. "Rewrites my biology. It literally changes every single cell in my body. I've set it to human."_

_"But, hold on," Martha protested. "if you'e going to rewrite every single cell, isn't it going to hurt?"_

_"Oh yeah. It hurts."_

* * *

The phone rang, at long last. Sarah looked up, then smiled and saved her work before reaching for it. Yes, it was Harry, and about time.

* * *

_He clamped the Chameleon arch to his head and switched on. Martha watched in horrified suspense._

_The Doctor screamed._

* * *

Sarah screamed. The pain was beyond anything she had ever known. It was everywhere, every muscle, every cell, every nerve ending in her body crying out in agony. The phone fell from her spasming fingers. She tried to stand, but it was no good. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, writhing as the fiery pain engulfed her.

* * *

"Sorry, can't come to the phone right now. If you're a friend, leave a message."

Harry scowled at the phone. As worried as she had sounded that morning, he was surprised when she didn't pick up on the first ring.

"Beep!"

He set the worry aside and kept his voice cheerful. "Hi hon. Hope you're taking a nap or having a nice long soak in the tub or something, and that mope didn't catch up with you after all. I'm on my way home. Meeting with Torchwood went well. Amazing, actually. Can hardly wait to tell you. You and Jack -- Captain Jack Harkness, the leader -- need to talk. You have a lot in common. Seriously. Well, call me."

He rang off and pulled the hands-free set from his head. Before he could put it back in its holder, the phone signalled an incoming call. He grinned and picked it up, not even looking at the caller ID, just knowing it had to be Sarah.

"Hi, hon," he said, smiling.

"Ah. Commodore Sullivan. It's Lieutenant Simmons, sir."

Harry quickly shifted mental gears. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I know you're not officially due back until tomorrow, sir, but we have a bit of a crisis on here. Any chance you could come in?"

Harry checked his watch, frowning. "You can't handle it, Simmons?"

"Well, sir, I can if I have to, but would certainly appreciate your assistance."

Harry knew the lieutenant's reticence meant that the crisis couldn't be explained over an unsecured phone line, so didn't bother asking for more details. He also knew that Simmons wasn't the sort to call for help if help wasn't needed. "On my way." He disconnected, then hit Sarah's speed dial number. Once again, his call went to voice mail. "Hon," he said, after the beep. "Just got a call from work. Appears I need to run in and put out a fire. Hope it's a small one. If I don't answer when you call back, that's why. Just leave me a message so I know you're okay. Okay?" He rang off with a deep sigh, then depressed the accelerator a bit more than he had been doing and concentrated on driving.

* * *

"Sorry, can't come to the phone right now. If you're a friend, leave a message."

"Hon? That fire I mentioned? Bigger than I'd hoped. I'm going to be here awhile. Call me."

He glanced at his watch and realized he had already been there for more than awhile. Simmons hadn't cried wolf--unfortunately. He looked out the window at the eastern sky, and saw it was beginning to lighten. Twenty-four hours without sleep, six of them on the road, another ten deeply embroiled in extremely sensitive negotiations. The thought that he might be getting beyond the age when he could pull this sort of shift tried to nudge its way into his mind, but he quickly sent it packing. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Maybe he could catch a cat nap. He'd developed the ability to pack three or four hours worth of rest into a fifteen minute lie-down back in med school, and it had stood him in good stead throughout his career. He stretched out on the leather couch in his office, covered his eyes with one arm, and dismissed all conscious thought with practiced ease. He focussed on taking long, slow breaths as he let every muscle in his body relax deeply and completely.

A soft rap on his door snapped him instantly back to full awareness. "Commodore?" a voice called from the other side of the door.

"Coming," Harry said, sitting up and pulling his phone out. No messages. His heart sank. Why hadn't she called?

"Commodore?" the voice called again, still respectful but more insistent.

Harry flipped the phone shut, slipped it into his pocket, and went back to work.

* * *

"Sorry, can't come to the phone right now. If you're a friend, leave a message."

"Sarah, you're scaring me. Please call. I don't know when I can break away, but if I don't hear from you soon, national security be damned, I'll be over. Please call. Did I say that already? I know I did. So call."

"Sir?" A very young officer saluted deferentially. "The ambassador is here."

"Right," Harry said, trying to shake both the weariness and the worry out of his head. "I'm on my way."

"Can I bring you a coffee, sir?" the young man asked, concern in his eyes.

Harry gave him his full attention for the first time. God, he was young. "Coffee stopped working about twelve hours ago, son," he said. "Bring me a cup of adrenalin if you have it."

"Yes, sir," he said automatically, then froze. "Ah...sir?"

"Never mind," Harry said with a crooked grin. He grabbed his coat off the rack and let the young officer help him shrug it on. "Let's go."

* * *

He was too tired to drive and too worried to sleep when the crisis had finally been well and truly averted. He was afraid to try one of his cat naps, knowing that, as tired as he was and with the pressure off, he would probably sleep the clock around. He wasn't about to do that until and unless he knew Sarah was safe. He drove, fighting sleep ferociously all the way, straight to Bannerman Road.

Sarah's house was dark, her car in the usual spot. He dug under the second flowerpot on the left for the hidden door key, found it and let himself in.

"Sarah?"

No answer. He flipped on the light in the living room and looked around. A half-cup of tea--stone cold, he quickly determined--sat by her computer, which was on with the screen-saver playing. He saw her phone on the floor by the desk and picked it up, examining it with a worried frown.

"Sarah!"

Still no answer. He checked the kitchen, the bedrooms, the bathroom. Nothing out of place but no sign of Sarah. He looked up the stairs that led to the attic, then started climbing.

He reached the landing and tried the attic door. Locked. From the inside. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach twisted. "Sarah!" he called, knocking on the door. "Are you in there?" No answer.

He rattled the knob, then gave the door a tentative push with his shoulder. It had a bit of play in it, but it was a sturdy old thing, curse it, not like a flimsy modern plywood door. He moved to the far side of the landing, gauged the distance, then stepped up and planted a firm kick on the key plate, as close to the door frame as possible.

He grimaced. That hadn't done his knee a bit of good, and the door was undamaged. He stood a moment, rubbing his knee, frowning and trying to think of any logical explanation for that door being locked from the inside that didn't involve Sarah being inside and in trouble. When he couldn't come up with one, he gave the door another desperate kick.

This time, he was rewarded with the sound of splintering wood. Encouraged, he kicked it again, ignoring the pain in his knee. The door sprang open and he stepped into the attic.

Sarah lay motionless, curled up on her side on the big brown couch, her back to the door.

"Oh, God. Please." Harry hurried to the couch and, dry-mouthed, knelt in front of it. "Sarah," he said softly, brushing her hair back off her face. She didn't respond. He placed two fingers on her throat, closed his eyes and breathed out a quick gasp of relief when he found a faint, thready pulse. "Thank God," he whispered. He pulled out his phone and punched 999.

"This is Dr. Harry Sullivan," he said when the dispatcher picked up. "I need an ambulance at 13 Bannerman Road." He gently pinched Sarah's skin, and watched as it very slowly sank back into place. "Female. Fifties. Unconscious and non-responsive." he said into the phone in response to the dispatcher's questions as he checked Sarah over. "No idea. I just found her like this. No obvious trauma. Dehydrated. No, no hiistory of heart disease or high blood pressure." He nodded as the dispatcher assured him help was on the way. "Tell them we're in the attic. The front door's unlocked."

He set the phone to speaker and placed it on the floor, leaving the line open. Then he carefully turned Sarah's head so she was facing up and away from the back of the couch. He tried to roll her onto her back, so he could check her more thoroughly for wounds, but her body was wrapped tightly around something he didn' t recognize at first. He had to pull her arms away from it. Even in her unconscious state, she clutched it to her stomach tightly. When he finally worked it free of her grasp, he held it up and gave it a puzzled frown. Why in the world would she have been hugging that to herself so tightly and so determinedly?

Shaking his head, he placed the small upholstered footstool on the floor and continued his examination.


	23. Epilogue, Part 2

Author's Note: Was I perhaps remiss in not mentioning that this is a multi-part epilog? Well. It is. Sorry, faithful readers, if you thought I'd leave Sarah like that. I wouldn't do that to her. That would be mean. And I would never be mean to Sarah.

_______________

"Doctor Sullivan? Doctor Sullivan!"

Harry sat in the crowded waiting room on a hard plastic chair, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, fingers laced through his hair. The sound of his name finally penetrated the fog of exhaustion and worry and guilt that enveloped him. "Here!" he called out, lifting one hand.

A young Indian doctor lifted his eyebrows at him, checked the clipboard he was carrying and started in his direction. "You're with Miss Smith?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "How is she?"

"She is responding well to treatment." Harry sighed with relief. "It's a good thing you brought her in when you did. Looks like we caught the dehydration before it could cause any major organ damage."

"Thank God," Harry breathed, running a hand through his disheveled curls. "Do you know what caused it?"

The doctor shook his head. "She was too medically fragile when you brought her in to do more than the most urgent testing. Once we get her rehydrated and stabilised, we'll run more tests to find the root cause. You don't have any ideas?"

Harry shook his head. "Last time I talked to her...what? Friday morning?" He thought back over the past few days and tried to count up the hours. "She seemed fine."

"You are not her personal physician?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Just a friend." The doctor nodded. "Can I see her?"

"Of course." He led the way out of the chaos of the waiting room and down a quiet corridor, then into a ward.

Harry's heart lurched when he saw Sarah, lying in bed, eyes closed, pale as the sheets that covered her. Life-saving fluids dripped from a clear plastic bag, through a tube, and into her veins. The doctor checked her vital signs, compared them against her chart, then gave Harry an encouraging nod. "Just ten minutes. Alright?"

Harry nodded, pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat. He took Sarah's hand in both of his and held it gently, remembering what the Doctor had said about transferring energy that way. The human way. Not that he had much to transfer at the moment, he thought ruefully.

He let go of her hand with one of his and reached up to brush her hair back, touching her cheek. Her eyes opened slowly, but didn't seem to focus. They looked empty. Wounded.

"Hi sweetheart," he said softly, smiling down at her. Her eyes moved to the side, slowly came into focus on his face. Her lips parted and she struggled to say something. "Shh," he shushed her. "Don't try to talk. You're in hospital. We're taking care of you. Just rest."

She licked her dry lips and tried to swallow. Then her features twisted in pain. Tears started to flow down her cheeks, silent, terrible, exhausted tears. When she finally did manage to force two words out, her voice was weak and hoarse. "He's gone," she whispered, then gasped and whimpered as if someone had stabbed her through the heart.

Harry didn't have to ask who 'he' was. "Oh God. Sarah. Are you sure?"

She nodded as the tears continued to flow. Her breath came in small, tired gasps.

"Oh, honey. I am so sorry," Harry said, his own voice nearly breaking. "Oh. No wonder." He slid from the chair onto the side of the bed, carefully lifting her into his arms, mindful of the tubes and needles. He held her against his chest and rocked her gently, rubbing her back and making meaningless comforting noises. The tears silently fell from her eyes until, once again, exhaustion claimed her and she slept in his arms.

The doctor appeared in the door of the ward and his eyebrows flew up. "Doctor Sullivan!" he said in a reproving tone when he saw Harry holding Sarah Jane.

Harry shushed him, and carefully eased Sarah back down on the bed. Her head rolled limply to the side and he bent over to tuck her back under the sheets, softly kissing her cheek as he did so. Then he gave the doctor a nod to follow him and stepped out of the ward.

Once they were in the hallway, Harry turned to the younger physician. "I know what happened." The other doctor tipped his head up and gave him his full attention. "She got some bad news."

"And that is why...?"

Harry nodded, and they both started to walk down the corridor back toward the waiting room. "It was...very bad news. Someone she loved..." He closed his eyes and took a breath before he could continue. "...more than life."

"Oh," the doctor said. They stopped and stood at the front of the waiting room, just under the always-on TV that no one ever seemed to be watching. "I am sorry."

Harry nodded. "Thank you. He was...a friend."

Just then, he glanced up at the TV and saw a stock photo of Sarah Jane, smiling for the camera. His eyes widened and he reached up and twisted the volume knob.

"Former Planet 3 celebrity journalist, Sarah Jane Smith, was rushed to hospital earlier this evening." A quick clip of Sarah being wheeled into the hospital on a gurney flashed on the screen, with an excellent view of Harry, full-face, as he walked alongside, a hand on Sarah Jane's arm, looking extremely concerned. "She is listed in stable condition but no further details are available at this time."

"Great," Harry growled. "They turn their backs on her until she's in trouble. Then she's news again."

"Your Sarah Jane Smith is..._the _Sarah Jane Smith?" the doctor asked.

Harry nodded unhappily. "And now those vultures have seen me with her..." He turned to the young doctor, and looked at his name badge. "Doctor Bhatt. Is there any chance you could find me an empty bed? I'm about out on my feet." Harry didn't like admitting it, and his face showed it. "And I really don't want to face those press jackals at the moment."

"Come with me," Dr. Bhatt said, leading him out of the waiting room.

He escorted Harry to a small apartment. "Visiting doctor's quarters," he said proudly.

"Oh, thank you," Harry said with deep and sincere gratitude.

Dr. Bhatt nodded and smiled. "You are most welcome. If you need anything, just let me or any of the staff know."

"Please let me know if there's any change in Miss Smith's condition."

"Of course," Dr. Bhatt said. "Now if you will excuse me. I am on duty."

As soon as the door closed behind the young doctor, Harry stripped off his shirt and trousers, shoes and socks, and fell into bed. He closed his eyes and saw images of Sarah as he had just seen her, lying pale and exhausted, beeping, flashing machines surrounding her. He shook his head slightly and forced himself to replace that image with one of her, young and strong and healthy, running after the Doctor, who was striding away, ridiculous long scarf flapping behind him. Then images of that face filled his mind's eye, that goofy, goggle-eyed face with the beaming, big-toothed grin, haloed by wild curls, that face that could go from silly to deathly serious in the beat of one of his hearts. Those images changed to ones of the face he now wore, the sharp, mobile features, the freckles, the spiky hair and expressive eyebrows, the deep brown eyes that were so much older than his blue eyes had been, even though they were set in a younger-seeming face.

He hadn't cried since Marilyn died. But he did now. Crazy how he got into your heart, this alien, this Time Lord. How many times had he saved his life? How many times had he saved his home, his species, his planet? And now he was gone. This good man, this decent man, who had tried so hard, always, to do the right thing, no matter what it cost him. That dangerous lifestyle of his had finally caught up with him, apparently. And there was a hole in the universe where he had been.

Harry fell asleep with the tears still wet on his cheeks.

* * *

When Harry woke up, he checked his watch and frowned. Two hours? That's all he'd slept? Then he looked out the window, saw late afternoon sunshine, and realized he'd slept the clock around, plus two hours. He found the bathroom well stocked with toiletries and scrub sets in assorted sizes hanging in the closet. After a quick shower and shave, he climbed into a pair of scrubs and headed to Sarah's ward.

"Where is Miss Smith?" he asked, trying to stay calm, when he arrived and found her bed empty. A rather round young woman with rosy cheeks and a ponytail was changing the linen.

"Oh, they took her to do some testing, sir," she said. She looked him up and down, taking in the scrubs. "New here, sir?"

"Just visiting," Harry said. He sat in the chair next to the bed and ran his fingers through his still-damp curls. "How long ago did they take her?"

"Not sure, sir, I am sorry," she said, finishing up the bed. She stood as tall as her plump frame allowed, placed a hand on her lower back, and arched backwards with a slight groan. "I'm sure they'll be bringing her back soon."

Harry nodded, and she gave him an encouraging smile and moved on to the next bed. After a second, he stood up and walked to the doorway and looked both ways down the hall, hoping to catch sight of Sarah being brought back from whatever tests they were running. No joy. He went back into the ward, paced up and down beside the bed for a bit, then sat, then paced, then sat.

He smiled with relief when she finally appeared, being wheeled in the door, but his smile dimmed when he saw her eyes. He stepped back, out of the way, as the nurse helped her into bed, then wheeled the empty chair out the door.

"Hi hon," he said softly, as he sank into the chair by the bed. "How are you feeling?"

She just shook her head.

"You look better," he lied. She glanced over at him but didn't say anything. He took her hand and sat quietly for a second. "Honey," he said softly. "Are you still sure he's...gone?"

She looked at him as if he'd stabbed her in the heart, but nodded.

"And I assume that's because you can't feel that...bond you said you had now?"

She nodded silently.

"Because...well, I was thinking." He glanced around the ward to be sure no one was within earshot, then continued in a softer tone. "Maybe the only reason you can't feel the bond is because he got too far away."

She shook her head. "He said..." she started in a barely audible whisper, then swallowed hard before continuing. "...time and space wouldn't change it."

"Maybe he was wrong," Harry suggested gently. "You said this had never been done before, between a Time Lord and a human. Maybe he didn't know."

She thought about that for a second, then shook her head. "It was there. All day. After he left. And the next day. Right up until..." Her features crumpled and she gasped at the memory.

He stroked her cheek. "Until what, hon?"

"Pain," she whispered. "Incredible pain." Her eyes darkened as she remembered the agony that had gripped her out of the blue.

"Where?"

She shook her head and tears started to fall. "Everywhere." She closed her eyes. "Something...horrible must have happened...." The tears turned into sobs.

"Don't think about it, honey," Harry said, stroking her forehead, feeling his own eyes starting to well up in sympathy. He waited until her sobs subsided. "Maybe he regenerated," he suggested hopefully. "Maybe the bond was only with this body."

She looked up at him, a tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes, but it quickly faded and she shook her head desolately. "It was with him. Not his body."

He nodded in defeat. He'd known that. He'd just been grasping at any hope. He closed his eyes and said a final goodbye to that hope, then sighed deeply and looked at Sarah. Tears still streaked her face, but her breathing had calmed. "Why did you lock yourself in the attic, hon?" he asked gently.

She raised her eyebrows. "Did I?" she asked in a very small voice.

He nodded. "That's where I found you."

She shook her head.

"You don't remember going up there?"

Another head shake. "I remember...the pain. And...crying."

He nodded solemnly. He knew that broken-hearted sobbing first hand, the crying that is so physical it wears you out, leaves you exhausted enough to finally sleep. Nature's sedative, giving you a temporary release from the pain, the only possible release from the pain--oblivion. He took her hand in both of his. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, sweetheart," he said, his voice rough. "Sorry I left you alone for so long. To go through that. By yourself."

"You didn't know," she said flatly.

"I knew something was wrong. When you didn't return my calls." His mind was full of images of her, alone in the house, sobbing herself into exhaustion, falling into blessed sleep, then waking to do it all over again, until she was too weak and too destroyed with grief to care for herself, beyond the point where hunger and thirst could even make themselves felt.

"Ah! Doctor Sullivan! Just the man!" Dr. Bhatt walked into the ward and broke into a bright smile when he saw Harry. "Did you rest well?"

"I did. Thank you very much," Harry said. He squeezed Sarah's hand gently and smiled down at her. "And thank you for looking after Sarah."

"Yes. Miss Smith. How are you feeling?" Sarah started to shake her head, then stopped and gave a half-shrug. Dr. Bhatt nodded as if she had actually answered. "Yes, well. Doctor Sullivan, could I have a word with you?"

"Of course," Harry said, a bit puzzled. Dr. Bhatt turned and strode quickly out into the hallway. "Be right back," Harry said to Sarah. She gave him a small nod, and he got up and followed the doctor.

Dr. Bhatt led Harry to a room where two x-rays hung on a light box. "I checked Miss Smith's records, and saw that she was hospitalized just over a week ago as the result of a fall," he said as he and Harry stood in the eerie light of the x-rays. Harry nodded, looking at the films. "She suffered several broken ribs. Here." He pointed at the xray on the left. "And here." He pointed at another spot on that xray. Then he turned his attention to the xray on the right. "This picture was taken today." He stared at the xray intently, then turned to Harry. "No sign of broken ribs."

Harry raised his eyebrows and compressed his lips, staring at the two xrays thoughtfully. "Fast healer."

"Indeed," Dr. Bhatt agreed. "Remarkably fast. And yet..." He sighed and looked uncomfortable. "May I ask. How well do you know Miss Smith?"

Harry smiled. "We've been friends for over thirty years. I think I know her pretty well."

Dr. Bhatt nodded gravely. "And would you say...are you aware if she has ever had any...psychological problems?"

Harry snorted a laugh. "Sarah?" he said incredulously. When the other doctor just kept looking at him, eyebrows up, he shook his head. "No," he said with conviction.

"No problems with anorexia or possibly depression?"

Harry's smile turned into a puzzled frown. "No. I told you. Neither. Why?"

Dr. Bhatt's discomfort increased. "The nurses are telling me that she is not eating. They thought perhaps she was having trouble swallowing, as a side effect of the dehydration, that her throat was sore. So they offered her a liquid nutritional supplement."

Harry nodded, waiting.

"She started crying."

Harry closed his eyes, then opened them, looked at the other man, and nodded slowly. "That doesn't surprise me." He saw again, in his mind's eye, the Doctor sitting in another hospital bed, his arm around Sarah, giving her one bottle of supplement after another. "For me, _terza_?" he heard again, as the Doctor shamelessly coerced her into drinking far more than she wanted, because he knew she was going to need the energy. No wonder the sight of a bottle of the stuff had torn her heart open again.

Dr. Bhatt was staring at him with wide eyes. "Erm. It...erm...reminded her of...the one she lost."

"The gentleman who passed?" Harry nodded. "But...?"

"You're just going to have to trust me on this," Harry said. "A bit hard to explain."

Dr. Bhatt nodded, letting it go, and moving on to the next item on his agenda. "Is she normally a very quiet person?"

Harry thought about that. "She certainly isn't loud. She's....No. I wouldn't say she was an exceptionally quiet person."

"The nurses are telling me she is not speaking. Which I saw myself just now."

Harry frowned again. "She talked to me," he said, but then thought back and remembered the number of times she'd answered in just a few words, or with only a nod or a shake of her head. "No. She's not normally a very quiet person," he said again. "But she's had a terrible shock. You understand that, right?"

Dr. Bhatt nodded. "I do. However. Most people do not end up in hospital as a result of receiving bad news."

"This...she...." Harry stammered to a halt. How to explain? Short of the truth. And if he told Dr. Bhatt the truth, his own mental health would be more in question than Sarah's. "Where are you going with this?" he asked.

"I have no reason to keep her in hospital. All of her tests are normal. There is nothing physically wrong with her. But. If I send her home, and she is not eating, she will end up returning. Rather than that, I was considering...possibly..." He was running out of steam in the light of Harry's intent gaze. "Transferring her to a psychiatric ward." A muscle jumped in Harry's cheek and Dr. Bhatt hurried ahead. "Just until she has recovered from the shock and we are certain she..."

"I'll take care of her," Harry interrupted. "I'll make sure she eats."

He turned and strode back to the ward, stopping at the foot of Sarah's bed. She looked up at him slowly, silently, mild curiosity in her eyes. "Sarah. I'm going to go home, pack a bag, pick up Thor, then go to your house, pick up some clothes for you, bring them here, and take you home. You okay with that?"

Sarah stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Good. I'll be back in a couple of hours."


	24. Epilogue, Part 3

Author's Notes: Jen and Smoke were introduced in my first story, Silver & Gold.

If you want to hear the song that's referenced in this chapter, go to Youtube and search for Paul Robeson -Eriskay Love Lilt. I'd give you the URL but this site won't allow it.

_______________

Harry opened the back of the SUV and snapped a leash on Thor's collar. "OK," he said, and the big young dog hopped to the ground. Harry's intention then was to turn back to the SUV, grab his suitcase with his free hand and head into the house. However, when Thor hit the end of the leash going the opposite direction with full-bore-happy-Lab-greeting-an-old-pal speed and power, Harry found himself unexpectedly heading toward the street instead.

Jen, Sarah's neighbor and friend, found herself in the same predicament, as her Weimaraner, Smoke, was also determined to say hi to his old buddy Thor, who had so delightfully appeared from nowhere as they were walking by. As Jen was lighter and less of a match for her dog than Harry, and Smoke was less well trained than Thor, Jen had rather the rougher trip. When the two dogs met in a flurry of happy wags and play-bows, Jen kept going in something of a slingshot effect. Harry reached out with his free hand to stop and steady her.

"Whoa. Thanks, Harry," Jen laughed. She looked down at her prancing, posing Weimaraner with affection. "I really have to teach him some manners one of these days." She glanced into the open back of Harry's SUV, saw suitcases and a big bag of dog food, and a huge astonished grin spread over her face. "Harry! You're moving in? Well, it's about time. Sarah finally saw the light, did she?" Her eyes widened and before Harry could get a word in, she went on. "I noticed there was no one home the past few days," she said, nodding toward Sarah's house. Her grin grew broader. "Was she...by any chance...on a honeymoon?" she asked, raising her shoulders and practically vibrating with delight.

"No." Harry had to stop her. "No Jen. It's not like that." Jen's face fell at the tone of his voice. "I just brought her home from hospital. I'm going to be staying a few days to look after her."

"Oh." Jen sounded as if all the air had been let out of her. "Is she okay?"

Harry looked at the house and shook his head. "No. She's not."

"What happened?"

Harry looked down at the dogs, not quite able to face Jen's worried eyes. "You remember her friend John?"

"Of course I do," Jen said softly. "Why?"

Harry let out a deep breath. "He's gone."

Jen frowned. "Gone? You mean..."

Harry nodded.

"Oh." Jen sounded devastated. "Oh no. After all they went through...." She dropped her gaze to the pavement and shook her head, then looked back up at Harry. "Was it another industrial accident?"

"Ah. No," Harry said, wondering what story Sarah had given Jen about why the Doctor had been in a coma when Jen had first met him as John Smith. "He was...travelling. And...well. We don't really know exactly what happened. But he's..."

"Well, then, they don't know for sure," Jen interrupted quickly, hopefully. "He could still turn up. Are they looking for him?"

Harry compressed his lips and tried to think of a way to answer that. "No," he finally said. "He was...well off the edge of the map. There's really no way to search."

"Oh. Some sort of adventure travel?" Harry nodded. "Well. He could still turn up."

"Maybe," Harry conceded. "But Sarah's sure he's gone."

Jen looked up at him. "Just...has a feeling about it?" Harry nodded. "Well. As close as they were." She sighed. "I hate to think about it, but she's probably right." She turned her head and looked toward the house. "God, she must be shattered."

Harry nodded. "You could say that. Yeah." He looked toward the house. "I'd better be getting in. Make sure she's okay."

"Of course," Jen said. "Do you need anything? Anything I can do?"

He gave her a grateful smile. "Can't think of a thing right now. But thanks for the offer."

"I mean it. Any time. Sarah has my number."

Harry squeezed her shoulder, then turned and gave Thor's leash a soft tug. Thor obediently trotted after him, while Jen grabbed Smoke's lead in both hands and planted her feet firmly as Smoke yelped, leaped and pulled, trying to follow Harry and Thor.

Harry grabbed his suitcase as he and Thor walked by the car and headed for the house. As soon as he entered, he heard music--Paul Robeson's deep rich rumbling bass. Harry smiled. _Good_, he thought. Sarah had been so passive, so blankly compliant when he went back to the hospital to pick her up. When he had given her the clothes he had brought for her, she just looked at them, but when he said "Get dressed, hon," she had nodded and obeyed. When they had arrived home, she had waited for him to come around to the passenger side of the car to open her door--something she had never done before in all the years of their relationship. "I can open my own doors, Harry Sullivan!" had been her breezy response to his attempts at chivalry in past times. Not today.

So he was relieved to hear that wonderful voice rolling through the house. It meant she had actually taken the initiative to do something on her own, without being told. Maybe coming home had helped break through the shock and grief that had numbed her.

_Vair me o, ro van o_, sang the voice, and Harry recognized one of Robeson's classic numbers, the _Eriskay Love Lilt_, a haunting old Scottish folk tune.

He set the suitcase down and unclipped the leash from Thor's collar. "Sarah?" he called. No answer. Just the music, filling the house.

_Vair me o, ro ven ee._

"Sarah?" Harry walked around the end of the sofa and saw her, curled up on the floor, her body pressed as close to the speaker as she could physically manage.

_Vair me o ru o ho._

Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but tears leaked out and trailed down her cheeks.

The last line of the song was in English. _Sad am I without thee._

"Oh, Sarah," Harry said. He punched the stop button on the CD player, went down on one knee beside her, and put a hand on her arm. "Honey, come on. Get up. You can't do this to yourself." She didn't move, didn't answer, didn't even look at him. She just cried--weakly, helplessly, hopelessly.

He slipped one arm under her knees and the other under her back, picked her up and carried her to the couch. He sat, holding her on his lap like a child. She leaned on his chest as tears silently streaked her face. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, and then just held her and let her cry.

* * *

"Hello again!" Jen said brightly as Harry opened the door an hour later.

"Hi." He smiled. "Didn't think I'd be taking you up on your offer so soon."

"Glad you did," she said, stepping into the house. Thor trotted up to greet her, wagging his tail. She knelt down to his eye level and skritched his cheeks and cooed to him. His tail became a black blur and his whole body wiggled with delight. She looked up at Harry. "What can I do?"

"Well," Harry said, rubbing the back of his head. "I need to go shopping. Everything fresh has gone off. Thought I'd be able to leave her alone long enough to do it, but..."

Jen stood up, much to Thor's disappointment. "Do you want me to go shopping for you, or to stay with her while you do it?"

Harry laughed softly. "You're a good soldier, Jen," he said with a smile.

"Aye, aye, sir," she said, flashing him a salute and a grin. "What's my assignment?"

"Just stay with her. She's asleep on the couch at the moment. If she wakes up while I'm gone, see if you can get her to eat something."

All the cheeriness faded from Jen's face. "She's not eating?"

Harry shook his head. "She's taking it really hard." He worked to keep his features under control. "I'm scared for her, Jen," he admitted softly. "I've never seen her like this. Not even remotely. Never dreamed Sarah could be so..." His voice trailed off.

"What?" Jen asked with a worried frown.

He shook his head. "You'll see. Just...don't be surprised." He checked in his pocket to be sure he had his keys, jingled them when he found them, and turned to leave. "I'll be back as quick as I can. You need anything?"

"Bring me a surprise!" she said with a grin.

"Will do," Harry said with a laugh as he headed out the door.

* * *

"Thor, get down," Harry said when he returned two hours later, hands full of grocery bags, as his dog greeted him enthusiastically at the door. "Nothing in here for you." The ever-hopeful lab fell into step with his master as he carried the bags through the living room and into the kitchen.

Sarah and Jen sat at the kitchen table, tea mugs and a plate of biscuits in front of them. Harry smiled at the sight as he set the bags on the counter.

"Here, let me help," Jen said, jumping up and starting to pull groceries out of the bags. Sarah sat still, one hand wrapped around a mug, staring down at the table, eyes out of focus. Harry gave her a quick appraising look, then glanced at Jen. She compressed her lips and shook her head slightly when their eyes met. His heart sank, but he determinedly kept the smile on his face as they carried on unloading the groceries and putting them away.

"You'll stay for dinner, Jen?" he asked as they worked. "I got Thai takeaway. Sarah's favorite."

"Ah. Erm..." Jen glanced up at the clock. "I'd better get home. Can't leave Smoke alone for too long." She caught Harry's worried look and carried on without a pause. "But he should be okay for a while yet. We had a nice long session at the park."

"Great," Harry said. He pulled takeaway containers out of the last bag, transferred their contents to bowls, and put them on the table.

Jen pulled plates out of the cupboard and forks out of the silverware drawer and set the table for three. "Tea, Harry?"

"Sure, thanks," he said.

"Sarah, you'll want fresh too. I'm sure yours has gone stone cold."

Sarah looked up at her, her eyes only slowly coming into focus. Then she looked at the mug in her hand, blinked, and nodded. She pushed it a few inches across the table, where Jen picked it up, dumped the cold tea down the drain and rinsed it out.

"Did you drink any of it, Sarah?" Harry asked, concern in his voice.

She nodded.

"About half," Jen said.

"And did you have any biscuits?" Harry asked Sarah hopefully.

She nodded, wide-eyed.

"One," Jen said.

"Well, that's something," Harry said under his breath. "You hungry?"

Sarah looked at the food he'd placed on the table. She gave a small sigh, then shook her head.

Harry sank into the chair next to her and took her hand. "Hon, you have to eat. You'll end up back in hospital if you don't. Being force-fed. Trust me, you don't want that."

She just looked at him out of big green eyes that belonged to a wounded animal, not the feisty, independent woman he'd known for three decades. Those eyes nearly unmanned him, but he steeled himself against them. "You'll eat?"

She gave a small nod, and he reached out to smooth her hair back off her face. "Good girl," he said softly.

He dug in with enthusiasm, and, with subtle looks and expressions, encouraged Jen to do the same. She caught on and did her best to make the food seem like the most mouth-watering she'd ever tasted. Sarah spent more time staring at her plate than eating, only actually taking a bite when Harry or Jen told her to. They finally gave up the charade and just reminded her to eat every time she stopped and stared at the food. They exchanged worried glances when she wasn't looking, and shook their heads at each other.

"Are you sure she didn't have...oh I don't know...a small stroke or something, Harry?" Jen asked as he saw her out, after they'd finished dinner and Sarah had started refusing to eat even when they told her to. "I mean...I know she loved him...but..."

"I know," Harry said, walking out to the street with her. "It was a horrible shock for her. But it's been four days."

Jen whirled on her heel to face him. "She was in hospital for four days?"

Harry shook his head and looked back over his shoulder at the house. "She was in there for the first three. Alone. I found her in the nick of time." Jen looked puzzled. "She hadn't been eating or drinking."

Jen thought about it. "Could that have caused...oh I don't know, I hate to ask...but...brain damage or something?"

"It could," he said. "But they checked her thoroughly and said no permanent harm had been done."

"They don't know her. They wouldn't see the difference in her." Harry nodded silently. "It's like...like Sarah Jane isn't in there anymore."

The world froze around him as Jen's words hit home. He stood, staring, barely breathing, until Jen touched his arm. "Harry? You alright?" she asked in a worried tone. "Don't you go like Sarah Jane on me now."

He let go of the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "I'm alright. Thanks, Jen. Thanks for everything."

She blew a deprecating puff of air out her lips and waved a hand at him. "Glad to help. Oh, and thanks for dinner."

"Want me to walk you home?" Harry asked, hoping she'd say no. He wanted to get back in the house, to follow up on the idea that had hit him with the force of a bolt of lightning.

"It's just across the way," she said. "I'll be fine."

"Call me when you get there, anyway, okay?"

She shook her head and smiled at him. "Harry," she said, reaching up and touching his cheek. "You are such a caretaker. Sarah is so lucky to have you." She turned and started across the street. "I'll call," she assured him, over her shoulder.

He hurried back into the house, half afraid he'd find Sarah curled up in front of the speaker again. She was still in the kitchen, though, slowly and mechanically going through the motions of clearing the table and putting the leftovers away. Thor, watching those leftovers with great interest, was far more animated than Sarah.

"Sarah, come here," Harry said, pulling out a chair. She just looked at him with those new empty eyes. "I'll take care of the washing up later. I want to talk to you now." She slowly came over and sat. He pulled out another chair and sat opposite her, holding her hands in his. "Honey, tell me more about this...bonding you did with the Doctor." He was afraid the question might bring on new floods of tears, but he had to know.

Her breathing changed slightly, but her eyes stayed dry. She blinked at him a few times, shook her head and gave a slight shrug. "What?" she finally asked.

The phone rang. "That'll be Jen," he said. "Hold on." He took the call.

"Made it. No muggers," came Jen's cheery voice. "Just this big grey dog who's mugging me for his supper now."

Harry smiled into the phone. "OK. Go feed him."

He rang off and went back to Sarah, who hadn't moved in his absence. He sat, took her hands again, and thought hard about how to ask what he needed to know. The whole concept of this psychic bonding that Sarah had described was so alien. English didn't have the words.

Still. He had to try.

"Honey, you said you felt him. Felt he was alive. Still there, after he left. Right?" She nodded. "How did you know that?"

She sighed out a breath and shook her head, struggling for words. "Because...part of him stayed with me...when he left."

Harry nodded. "But...was it one way?"

She stared at him, eyebrows furrowed, then shook her head. "No. Of course not."

"It was mutual?"

She nodded.

"So. Part of him stayed with you. And part of you went with him." Harry wasn't even sure whether what he was trying to say made sense, but she seemed to get his meaning. She nodded.

He licked his lips and swallowed before he asked the next question. "And...what happened to that part of you? Where is it now?"

He felt a cold chill down his spine as her eyes went out of focus. "Gone," she said. "Gone with him."


	25. Epilogue, Part 4

"No."

Harry clenched his jaw as all the fear and worry and guilt of the past few days coalesced into a cold lump that settled in the pit of his stomach at her words. He wanted to shake her, to shake that idea out of her head, to shake the emptiness out of her eyes.

"No," he said again, more forcefully. He reached out, grasped her by the upper arms and stared into her eyes, searching, searching desperately for Sarah Jane. _Damn you, Doctor,_ he thought. _I told you not to hurt her._ "He did not take any part of you with him. You are not gone. You are completely and entirely here. In front of me. All of you."

Her breath started coming in small hiccuping gasps and her eyes went out of focus. She shook her head.

"Stop that," he said fiercely. "Just stop it. Don't say it, don' t think it. Do you hear me?"

She looked up at him and nodded, a small, frightened nod. He saw the fear in her eyes and wanted to sink through the floor. He let go of her arms and gently placed his hands on her cheeks, holding her head so that she had to look at him. "Oh God, Sarah. I'm sorry. I just...I can't hear you say that. I can't let you believe it." He folded her into his arms, pressing his cheek to hers. She didn't respond, just let herself be held. "Honey, I know what it feels like," he said, his voice soft and rough. "You know I do. I know what it's like to feel that a part of you died with someone you love. The best part of you." He pulled back and looked deeply into her eyes. A faint glimmer of recognition appeared there, and she nodded. "You got me through that. Remember?"

Her eyebrows furrowed and after a second she nodded again. Then the lost look came back into her eyes. "But...it's not the same," she said softly.

He took a firm grip on his emotions, inhaled deeply, then exhaled and forced himself to relax. "Of course it's not," he said gently. "Of course it's not. That was me and Marilyn. This is you and the Doctor."

"But...this isn't just a feeling," she said, tears welling in her eyes. "It's real."

He looked into her eyes and, not for the first time in the years since he'd met the Doctor, felt totally out of his depth. Maybe it _was _real. Maybe this alien connection they had made was fundamentally different from the love that bound two human beings together, and maybe everything that made Sarah Jane Sarah Jane was gone with the Time Lord she loved. But everything in him rebelled against that thought.

"Maybe it is," he finally said. "But...maybe not. Please, sweetheart. Don't..." _Don't what?_ he thought as he broke off. _Don't believe what your heart is telling you? Don't say it out loud because it hurts me to hear it? Because it scares me so badly? _ He shook his head helplessly, closed his eyes, and searched his soul for answers. Only one came to him.

He opened his eyes and saw tears rolling down her cheeks. He reached out and gently rubbed them away. "We'll get through this," he said. Her eyes met his. "Somehow. We'll get through it."

* * *

"How did you get her to come?"

Harry took the retrieving dummy from Thor's mouth and gave it a good throw before answering. "Easy. I just said, 'Put your coat on, we're going to the park.'" Thor tore off at top speed after the dummy, Smoke loping along beside him.

Jen glanced over her shoulder at Sarah, who was sitting, hands folded in her lap, legs curled under her, on a park bench half a dozen yards behind them. "She always shakes her head when I ask her if she wants to come with Smoke and me."

"I've learned," Harry said flatly. "Don't ask. Tell." Jen raised her eyebrows at him. "If I ask her if she wants to do...well, almost anything..." he explained. "She just shakes her head. But if I tell her what to do, she does it. No complaints, no arguments, no discussion. Just...does it."

Jen laughed softly. "The perfect woman." Harry arched an eyebrow at her and she gave him a wry grin. "In some men's minds."

"Hmm," he responded. Thor came tearing back and sat, his hindquarters vibrating, until Harry took the dummy from him and threw it again. "Not mine."

"I know," she said gently. She stood by Harry's side and watched Thor and Smoke racing across the lawn, Thor in single-minded pursuit of the dummy, the longer-legged Smoke bounding alongside him, tongue lolling in a happy dog grin. "Harry..."

He looked over at her. She met his eyes for a second, then looked back at the dogs. "It's been weeks. She doesn't seem to be getting any better."

"She is," he said determinedly. "She...talks more. Does more things on her own."

Jen gave him a look. "Such as?"

"Oh..." He thought. Way too long.

"Umm hmm," Jen said, when he didn't go on. "Is she eating?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "When I tell her to," he added, throwing the dummy.

Jen glanced back at Sarah again. "You need to tell her more often."

Harry turned to look at Sarah too. Their eyes met, and Harry gave her a smile and a wave. She didn't respond. "She tries. But there's a limit. Even with me telling her. You know." Jen nodded. "At least she isn't losing any more weight."

"She doesn't have any more to lose," Jen said under her breath. "Harry, have you thought about..." Her voice softened. "...getting her some professional help?"

Harry silently look the dummy from Thor and threw it again, harder this time. Thor and Smoke ran.

"You're a doctor," Jen went on when he didn't respond. "You know. Sometimes..."

"I wish I could," he interrupted, answering her earlier question. "But..." He shook his head. "It's complicated." Complicated didn't begin to describe it, he thought, picturing himself trying to explain what was wrong with Sarah to a psychiatrist. _Well, doc. She bonded with an alien and he flew off and came to some horrible end, no, don't know exactly what, but part of her went with him. A big part of her. The part that made her her. Did they cover that one in your training?_

"Did she have a thing against shrinks or something?"

Harry felt his heart contract. "Please don't talk about her in the past tense."

Jen's face fell. "Sorry. I just meant..."

"I know," he said. "It just..." He looked down at Thor, sitting at his feet with the dummy in his mouth, and knelt next to the dog, putting an arm around him. Thor spit out the dummy long enough to give his master a quick lick on the cheek, then lunged for it again when Smoke made a feint at it. Harry gave up on that source of comfort with a rueful smile, stood up, took the dummy and threw it. "It just bothers me."

Jen nodded. "Won't do it again."

Harry turned to look at her, hearing the hurt in her voice. "Oh, Jen. I'm sorry. You've been such a good friend..."

"Uh-oh," she said, looking off into the distance.

"What?" He snapped to attention, following her gaze. "Oh damn." A Rottweiler was approaching Smoke and Thor, walking stiff-legged with his hackles fully erect. "Not him again."

"We'd better get down there," Jen said, starting in the direction of the dogs.

"Be right back, hon," Harry called over his shoulder to Sarah, then strode rapidly off after Jen.

Fortunately, the dogs were still busily posturing when Harry and Jen arrived and hostilities hadn't broken out. Harry grabbed Thor and Smoke by their collars and stood tall between them, staring at the Rottweiler with a look that said, "You want them, you come through me." The Rottie got the message and backed off. His owner showed up at that point, nonchalantly wandering in their direction with a thick leather lead bunched up in his hand. He was about five six and, soaking wet and after a heavy meal, probably outweighed his dog. Just.

Harry and Jen were in the middle of explaining to the Rottie's owner, not for the first time, why he mustn't let his dog terrorize other dogs and hearing, not for the first time, how dear Bootsie wasn't terrorizing anyone, he was just wanting to play, when Harry glanced over his shoulder to check on Sarah.

She was lying on her side on the bench, her head pillowed on one arm, and a policeman was standing in front of her, apparently having an earnest, if one-sided, discussion with her.

"Now what," Harry muttered. He handed Smoke to Jen and headed quickly back toward the bench with Thor in tow.

"Ma'am, you can't sleep here," he heard the officer say as he came within earshot. The note of exasperation in the young man's voice indicated it wasn't the first time he'd advised Sarah of this fact.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Harry asked.

"No, sir, and nothing to see. Just move along, please, sir."

"The lady is with me, son," he said firmly.

The officer turned and looked at him properly for the first time. "Oh. Is she then. Well, begging your pardon, sir, but she can't sleep here."

"She doesn't plan to. Do you Sarah?" Sarah shook her head. "Sit up, hon. This young man's worried about you." Harry reached out a hand to her. She took it and he helped her pull herself up to a sitting position. Harry raised his eyebrows at the officer.

"Sorry, sir. Ma'am." He touched the brim of his cap to Sarah. "I _was _concerned about you, ma'am. A lady like yourself shouldn't be sleeping on park benches."

"It hasn't quite come to that yet, officer," Harry assured him drily. "She has a home. And people who care about her."

"That's good, sir," he agreed, nodding. "So many of them don't."

"So many of...them?" Jen asked, walking up with Smoke just in time to catch the policeman's last statement.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Them who?" she asked, frowning as if she were baffled.

"Oh, you know, ma'am." Jen shook her head. "People who are...different."

Jen and Harry both looked at Sarah, waiting for a reaction. Anger, sarcasm, amusement...any reaction would do. But all they saw was this new, quiet, passive Sarah, who sat on the bench as if awaiting instructions, indifferent to the officer's words.

* * *

The old man walked up to Sarah Jane's door. His hair was white, as was the beard he wore now instead of the mustache of his younger years. He was heavier than he'd been in those days, too, and used a silver-handled walking stick now--as much for fashion as stability, he told himself. His military bearing had not deserted him, however, and his lively brown eyes hadn't dimmed.

"Brigadier," Harry said with a smile when he opened the door to the older man's ring. He suddenly felt as if half the weight of the world had been taken off his shoulders. "Good to see you, sir."

"Commodore," Brigadier Sir Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart replied with a nod. "You're looking fit."

"As are you sir," Harry said, standing aside and inviting his old commanding officer in with a gesture.

"You always were a terrible liar, Sullivan," the Brigadier commented drily as he stepped into the house.

Harry ducked his head to hide his smile. He sobered rapidly when he thought about the reason he'd asked Lethbridge-Stewart to visit. "Thank you for coming sir."

"Why did you wait so long to call me?"

Harry was a bit nonplussed by the question. "Well, sir," he stammered. "I know how busy you are..."

"I'm retired, Sullivan."

"And you still stay busy," Harry added.

"If a member of my old team is in trouble, I am not busy," the Brigadier said emphatically. "Sarah Jane Smith may have been a civilian, but she was as much a part of UNIT as any one of us."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, taking the older man's coat and hanging it in the entryway closet. "No argument from me, sir."

The two men walked into the living room, where Sarah lay curled up on the couch, her eyes open and empty, staring at nothing.

"Sarah," Harry said gently. "Look who's here."

* * *

Hours later, after tea and a great deal of reminiscing, Harry saw the Brig out. Rather than getting in his car, the older man looked around Sarah's garden, spotted her gazebo, and walked slowly and deliberately over to it, nodding to Harry to follow. The Brigadier settled himself on one of the benches with a small, stifled groan, and Harry sat opposite him.

The Brig rested his hands on the silver handle of his cane and stared at them for a long moment before speaking.

"You could have warned me, Sullivan."

"I thought I did, sir."

The Brig's sharp brown eyes fixed themselves on Harry's downcast face for a moment. Then his features softened. "You did try," he acknowledged with a rueful nod. "I'll give you that. I just couldn't believe she was as bad as you said she was."

"And now, sir?" Harry asked quietly.

The Brigadier shook his head. "I still can't believe it. And I've seen it." He frowned at Harry. "Does she only eat when you tell her to?"

Harry compressed his lips unhappily. "Pretty much, sir."

"And only speaks when spoken to?"

Harry just nodded. The Brigadier shook his head again. "That fiesty, fiery little woman..." he said, then trailed off. After a moment, he raised his eyebrows at Harry. "My visit doesn't appear to have had the desired effect."

Harry took a deep breath before answering. "Maybe it will, sir. Maybe it just needs a bit of time to sink in."

"You're not giving up on her," the Brig said, making it a statement, not a question. Harry looked up, startled, and the Brig gave him a crooked smile. "Good man." Then he grew very serious. "You should have reported to UNIT about the Doctor, though, Sullivan."

Harry nodded. "I thought about it, sir. But...with no evidence, no confirmation. Just Sarah..." He trailed off.

"Yes, well, considering their history, I'm afraid I trust Miss Smith's...reaction. I fear we must acknowledge that the worst has happened and Earth no longer has her greatest protector." His eyes went out of focus. "Damn shame. Splendid chap. All of them." He looked up at Harry. "Was he still the little fellow with the umbrella?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Erm, no sir, he was tall and very slim, brown-haired, brown-eyed. Looked considerably younger than he did thirty years ago."

The Brigadier snorted a laugh. "Good trick. Wish we could all master it." Harry joined him in that rueful laugh, then they both sobered. "Was he travelling alone when it happened?" the Brigadier asked.

Harry's heart sank, not for the first time, as he thought about Martha. "No. He had a...a wonderful young lady travelling with him. A doctor in training. She was...devoted to him."

"No word of her, I suppose?"

Harry shook his head. "Even if she survived whatever happened to him, she's bound to be stranded somewhere. An alien planet. An alien time..." Harry hung his head, images of Martha Jones flashing through his mind's eye.

The Brigadier nodded silently. Then he pulled a notepad and pencil out of his pocket and started writing. After a few minutes, he looked over what he had written, ripped the page out of the notebook and handed it to Harry.

"What's this, sir?" Harry said, frowning at the page.

"A list of others who will remember Sarah Jane from the old days, with current contact information. The top two are John Benton and Mike Yates. I believe she was quite close to both of them. I know they were very fond of her," he added softly. He gave Harry a sharp look. "Time to rally the troops around one of our own, Sullivan."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Keep me informed of her progress. I will come back any time you think it might help." The old man pushed down on his cane and rose from the bench. Harry walked him to his car, held the door for him, and closed it behind him. The Brigadier rolled down the window. "Is she writing?" he asked.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Writing, sir? She's barely speaking."

"Get her writing, Sullivan," the old man said emphatically. "That girl has ink in her veins. It's who she is." He nodded encouragingly at Harry. "Get her writing. She'll find herself." He started the car and pulled out with a wave.

Harry stood and watched him drive off, feeling stunned by the genius of the man. _Get her writing. She'll find herself._ Why hadn't he thought of that? He turned and nearly ran back into the house.

Sarah was on the couch, as usual. Harry sat in her desk chair and fired up her computer. Once it had booted, he opened a new Word document. "Sarah. Come here," he said.

She looked up and slowly brought her eyes into focus on him. Then she got up and came over, as requested. He stood up. "Sit," he said, and she sat in the chair he had just vacated. He swiveled it around so she was facing the blank screen. "Write," he said.

She stared at the monitor for long moments, before turning eyes as blank as the screen to him. "What?" she asked.

"Anything," he said. He leaned over her shoulder and maneuvered the mouse, clicking through the stored documents on the hard drive. He found a folder marked "WIP" and double clicked on it. "Are these your current projects?" he asked.

She stared blankly at the monitor for a moment, then blinked and brought her eyes into focus. She nodded. "Work on one of those," he suggested. He clicked on 'Views' and then on "Detail" in the drop-down menu so he could see the date of each document. Then he clicked on "Date Modified" to put them in order, to see what the last thing was she had worked on.

"Here," he said, double-clicking on the document with the most recent date. It opened, and he scanned the first few lines. His heart sank as he realized what it was--her thoughts about the Doctor and what it felt like, being bonded with him, both when he was present and after he had left. The date of the document suddenly jumped out at him--the day after the Doctor and Martha had left. The day the Time Lord had disappeared from Sarah's internal radar.

"Ah, let's find something else," he said quickly, moving the pointer to the little red x in the upper right hand corner of the document. Before he could click and close it, though, her hand came up and covered his, stopping him. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, reading the words she had written that dreadful day. Harry held his breath, watching her. As he feared, tears welled up in her eyes, but she kept reading through them, ignoring them as they rolled down her cheeks as if they were just a part of her, as natural as breathing. When her eyes reached the bottom of the page, the point where Harry's phone call had interrupted her, where the soul-searing pain had knocked her to the floor, she just kept staring at the last words for long moments. Then, her hands slowly moved to the keyboard and positioned themselves over the home keys. Harry bit his lip and waited. One key clicked. Then another. Slowly a word formed. Then a sentence. She paused so long after that sentence that he thought he'd lost her again, but he waited, waited with his heart hammering, breathing softly so as not to disturb her. Finally, another word. Then another.

Harry quietly moved away from the chair, a slow step at a time. She didn't seem to notice. He sat on the couch and picked up the book he had been reading to her before the Brigadier's visit. Keys kept clicking, still slowly, but steadily. He let the smile that had been building in his heart show on his face as he held the book, not looking at it, just watching the miracle happening at Sarah's desk.

She cried and she wrote, and she cried and she wrote. He fixed tuna sandwiches for dinner, and brought hers to her on a plate. "Hon, you need to eat," he reminded her as he set the plate down next to the keyboard. She nodded, picked up the sandwich, took a bite, then went back to her writing, chewing and swallowing as she typed. He didn't have to tell her to take the second bite. She was on autopilot now, having eaten many a meal while working. He smiled, remembering how he used to tease her about it. "You don't even know what you just ate," he'd laugh. She'd look at the empty plate and frown, trying to remember what it had held.

He didn't tease her now. He was afraid it would break the spell. He just kept surreptitiously putting more food on the plate and happily watching her empty it.


	26. Epilogue, Part 5

Nudge. Nudge nudge.

"Go away, Thor," Harry groaned, not opening his eyes, trying to hold on to sleep.

Nudge. The dog's cold, wet nose rooted under Harry's elbow and lifted it an inch.

"Why didn't you take care of that before we went to bed?" Harry grumbled. He rolled over and pulled the covers up tightly around his ears.

Thor whined.

"Oh good grief," Harry grumped. He threw the covers off, sat up, stared at his dog, then looked at the clock. Three AM. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. Thor slapped a big paw on his knee and looked at him with earnest brown eyes. "Alright, alright. I'm coming. But this had better not be a false alarm. If I find out it's just an early-rising squirrel...." He slid his feet into his slippers, threw on his dressing gown, and, yawning, headed for the front door, Thor serving as a dancing, wagging escort.

Harry opened the door and Thor dashed out, disappearing instantly into the black of night. Harry leaned against the door frame, yawned, folded his arms over his chest, closed his eyes, and let his head drop forward. He was half-asleep on his feet until the chill of the autumn night started to penetrate his robe and pyjamas, dissipating the warmth he'd carried with him from his cozy bed in Sarah's guest room. He shivered, opened his eyes and scanned the darkness.

"Thor!" he called. "That's enough. Come in."

His dog obediently came rushing out of the dark toward him, then spun in a circle and ran back into the night.

"Thor!" Harry started to bellow it, but thought of the neighbors and the hour and toned it down. Thor again appeared, repeated his little circle in front of Harry, and raced away.

Harry stomped off into the night after his dog, muttering imprecations against all dogkind, and manic, disobedient, insomniac, empty-headed young Labs in particular. Thor appeared in front of him, then turned tail again. Harry followed.

When he caught up with his dog, he found him sitting in Sarah's gazebo. And it wasn't a squirrel he was on about after all. It was Sarah. She was sitting, curled up in the corner of the bench, shaking.

"Sarah. What...?" Harry thought the shaking was sobs at first, but then realized it was full-body shivers. He put a hand on her cheek. "You're freezing. What are you doing out here?"

"T-t-trying to st-st-stay awa-wa-wake," she stammered through chattering teeth.

Harry gave her an incredulous look. "Why?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again as another wave of shivers shook her.

"Never mind," Harry said, taking off his robe and wrapping it around her. "Let's get you inside."

He put his arm around her and helped her off the bench, then guided her back to the house. Thor pranced ahead of them, his tail held high and wagging furiously.

Harry sat her down on a kitchen chair and quickly put the kettle on, then turned back to her. "Sarah, what am I going to do with you? You can't sit out in the wee hours of the night at this time of year in nothing but your pyjamas." He looked down at her bare feet, blue with cold. "And not even slippers." He knelt and wrapped his hands around her feet, then pulled a horrified face. "Like ice cubes," he said, looking up at her. "Sarah...what in the world...". He hurried out of the kitchen and was back in a moment with a big, fluffy quilt, which he wrapped around her. "You don't have to be in the Antarctic to get hypothermia, you know." Then he was off again, coming back in another moment with a basin and a hot water bottle. "What were you thinking?" He filled the basin with hot water from the tap, as hot as he could stand it, and put it on the floor in front of her. "Feet," he ordered, raising his eyebrows and pointing at the basin. She obediently put her feet in the hot water. He filled the hot water bottle and slid it under the quilt, under her pyjama top. "Hold that against your stomach," he said. She put a hand on it and held it to herself, and he rearranged the quilt over top of it, shaking his head. "What in the world were you doing out there at this hour?"

"If y-y-you'd st-st-stop f-f-fussing at me for a minute, I'd t-t-tell you."

Harry stopped fussing. In fact, he nearly stopped breathing. He just stared, wide-eyed, at Sarah Jane, who stared back at him, looking almost as shocked as he did at what had just come out of her mouth. She'd improved since the Brig's visit, definitely. Since she started writing. And since the old team from UNIT had started making regular visits. She was clearly on the road back. But this--this sounded almost like something the old Sarah Jane would have said. He laughed, a happy, relieved laugh. "OK," he said. "I'll stop fussing. You stop shivering. And then you can tell me. OK?"

She nodded and clutched the quilt to her more tightly.

The kettle whistled and Harry made her a cup of hot sweet tea to warm her from the inside. She held it in both hands, then pressed it to one cheek, then the other before taking a sip. Gradually, the wracking shivers subsided. Harry poured himself a cup of tea, pulled a chair up so they were sitting knee to knee, and felt her cheeks and forehead, which were now flushed with returning warmth.

"OK. I stopped fussing. You've pretty much stopped shivering. Now. Why were you out there?" he asked.

"Because...of the dream."

His eyebrows furrowed in a frown of concentration. "What dream?"

"About...him."

"Tell me," Harry said, very gently.

It took her awhile to work up to it, but he waited patiently. "He...he was trapped. Hidden away. Scared. Oh God. So scared. Something was after him. Something...h-h-horrible." A residual shiver sent her stuttering again. Harry nodded and waited. "And...and there was..nothing I could do," she said haltingly, her face twisting in remembered pain. "To help him."

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder through the quilt. "That must have been awful for you," he said gently.

She nodded.

"Have you dreamed this before?"

She nodded again.

"And when you go back to sleep, it comes back? The same dream?"

She looked at him out of big, haunted eyes. "Sometimes."

He set his tea mug on the table, took hers from her and put it next to his, then wrapped his arms around her, quilt, hot water bottle, and all. "No wonder you didn't want to go back to sleep," he said softly into her ear. "But there has to be a better way." He pulled back and looked her in the eyes. "Don't do that again. OK, sweetheart?"

"It wasn't a very good idea, was it," she said unhappily.

"No. It wasn't," he agreed.

"It's just...so hard to tell sometimes. Now. With...." She glanced quickly up at him and stopped.

"Now with what?" he asked gently.

She shook her head, looking down. "You don't like me to say it."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "I what?"

She glanced up at him again, then away. "You got upset with me."

Harry cast his mind back over the past weeks, cudgeling his brain for a clue as to what she was talking about. "You can say anything to me, hon," he said finally. "I won't be upset."

"You were."

His eyes widened in bafflement. "When?"

"When I said..." Her eyes wandered around the room, then came back to him. "That part of me was gone."

"Oh." Harry's face relaxed. "That."

Sarah nodded.

He studied her eyes. "You still believe that?"

She compressed her lips and nodded.

"But...you're better. Getting better every day."

She shrugged her shoulders. "When people lose...an eye, or a leg, or...whatever. They adapt. They compensate." She looked up at him, eyes wide. "That's all I'm doing." He sat silently. "Trying to, anyway," she added ruefully. "Not always succeeding"

They heard a lapping noise then, and looked down to see Thor sampling the warm water in the basin. "Thor," Harry chided him. "That's not for you." The big dog looked up, water dripping out both sides of his mouth, eyes questioning. Harry clicked his tongue and got up, fetched a paper towel and mopped up the water. Then he stroked the dog's broad, black skull and smiled at him. "You old hound." Thor's tongue lolled. "Good dog."

When Harry looked up at Sarah again, he caught her staring at him with a puzzled frown. "Have you quit your job?" she asked suddenly.

His eyebrows went up at the question. "No," he answered simply.

Her eyebrows furrowed more deeply. "You're always here."

He smiled. "I took some time off. To look after you."

"Oh," she said, still frowning. "Well. Do you need money?"

He laughed softly. "No, hon. I'm fine. I had some time coming to me."

"Cause I have money," she went on, as if she hadn't heard. Her eyes went out of focus. "I think."

"You do." He confirmed it for her with an encouraging nod. "We're fine. You don't have to worry about it."

"OK," she said vaguely. "That's good."

He laughed softly. "Let's get you back to bed. Feet," he said, indicating hers. She lifted her feet and he pulled the basin out from under them, dumping the now luke-warm water into the sink and grabbing a kitchen towel to dry her feet. When he tried to lead her down the hall toward the stairs, though, she balked. "I'd rather sleep on the couch," she said.

Harry arched an eyebrow at her. "You're not..."

"No," she interrupted him. "I know better now. I just...well...don't want to go back to my bed. It's like...the dream is waiting there for me."

They walked back to the living room and Sarah curled up on the couch. Harry shook the quilt out and draped it over her. He tucked it in around her feet, then perched on the edge of the couch, one hand on her back. Thor stretched out on the floor by Harry's feet and rested his chin on his paws.

"Want the TV on?" Harry asked. "I could find you a comedy. Something to give you happy dreams."

Sarah just shook her head.

He rubbed her back gently through the quilt. "Hon," he asked softly. "Why didn't you come to me? Instead of going outside."

"You were asleep," she answered simply.

He raised his eyebrows. "I wake up pretty easily. Thor managed it."

She blinked up at him, slight frown lines appearing between her eyebrows. "That would be rude." Doubt suddenly filled her eyes. "Wouldn't it?"

"No," he reassured her. "It would be fine. Much better than finding you half-frozen in the garden, at any rate."

She nodded. "Okay."

"We could have drunk strong coffee and....and played Parcheesi to stay awake," he said with a smile.

"Okay," she agreed soberly.

He sighed. "Thought that might at least get a smile." She looked up at him, eyes wide. "I miss your smile," he went on in a soft, wistful tone. "Haven't seen it for so long."

She didn't respond. He sighed, stood up and walked to the doorway leading from the living room to the hallway. "You coming?" he asked his dog. Thor raised his head and thumped his tail, but didn't get up. Harry smiled. He was glad to see Thor had bonded to Sarah, and now seemed to have appointed himself her guardian angel. "Night, Sarah." He almost added 'sweet dreams' but decided that would be tempting fate, so instead just switched off the light.

A quiet voice reached his ears from the darkened living room. "I think he took it with him," she said, so softly he could barely hear her.

* * *

"One room or two? And if you're not married, the answer's two."

Harry raised his eyebrows, gave Sarah a sideways glance, then answered, "Two."

"World may have changed but I haven't," the old woman said as she turned the registration book to face him and handed him a pen. "Swingin' sixties. Free love. My eye." She fixed Sarah with a beady blue eye. "Love's not free, is it, missus?"

Sarah blinked at her a few times before answering, "No, ma'am."

Harry ducked his head to hide a smile at Sarah's serious tone as he signed them both in.

"Dog stays with...?" the old woman asked, staring at Thor, who was sitting politely between Sarah and Harry.

"Me," Harry said. Thor swished his tail, as if in agreement.

"Mmm," she responded dubiously. "You pay for all damages."

"There won't be any." The look he got for that comment would have struck terror in the heart of a lesser man--one who hadn't fought Daleks and been held captive by Zygons. "But," he added to placate her. "If there were any, I would of course stand good for them."

She peered over her half-frame glasses at him for a long moment. "Well," she finally said with a sniff. She picked up a gnarled and well-worn walking stick and headed down the hallway. "Let me show you what I've got."

Harry gave Sarah an encouraging smile, picked up their bags and said, "Heel" to Thor, then they all three followed their hostess down the hall and up a steep flight of stairs.

Sarah almost smiled when she saw the room at the front of the bed and breakfast. It was small, done in shades of blue, with a slanting ceiling and a dormer window that looked out over the gray and rolling ocean. A narrow bed was positioned directly in front of the window. "You like this one?" Harry asked. She looked up at him and nodded.

He dropped her bags in that room and inspected the ones on either side, settling on one with a double bed and considerably more space than Sarah's for himself.

"Breakfast at seven. If you're late, you get leftovers," the old woman said as she turned to go down the stairs, her stick thumping on each step. "If there are any," she added, her voice fading as she descended to the ground floor.

"The guide book didn't mention her," Harry said softly to Sarah, rejoining her in the blue room once he was sure their hostess was out of earshot.

"Probably a good business decision," Sarah said seriously. Harry looked at her quickly, searching for a hint of irony, seeing none.

"You sorry we came?" he asked.

She shook her head, looking out the window at the sea. "Not at all. I love the shore." She turned and looked at him. "Maybe you were right. Maybe a change of scene is what I need."

"You want to unpack? Settle in for a bit?"

She shook her head slowly, turning back to the window and staring at the waves. "No. I want to walk the beach."

Thor thumped his tail at the word 'walk'.

They bundled up against the brisk October wind and headed for the shore. No one else was out braving the elements, so Harry cut Thor loose once they reached the edge of the water. He pulled a retrieving dummy out of his jacket pocket and Thor danced with excitement at the sight of his favorite object. He was off after it like a black streak as soon as Harry tossed it.

They moseyed down the beach together, Harry stopping periodically to throw the dummy for Thor, Sarah stopping periodically to stand, arms wrapped tightly around herself, and face the wind, closing her eyes and drinking in the salt smell of it. She almost smiled again when she caught him looking at her, watching the wind whip her hair back. "This was a good idea," she said. "Thank you." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close, and they slowly walked on, Thor running around them in circles, trying desperately to get one of them to take the dummy from him.

By the time they returned to the bed and breakfast, it had transformed into home from home, a cozy, warm place to retreat from the wind. Harry helped Sarah off with her coat, then shucked out of his own and hung them both up on hooks on the wall. They found a fire burning merrily in the downstairs common room fireplace and settled onto the old leather couch that sat in front of it. Thor turned around three times and then flopped down and stretched out on his side, as close to the fire as he could get without singeing his fur.

Sarah slid her shoes off, tucked her feet up under her and leaned against Harry, who smiled and put an arm around her. They sat quietly, watching the mesmerizing flicker of the flames. "All we need is a bit of hot buttered rum and this would be perfect," Harry said.

"Don't serve alcohol," came a crisp voice from down the hall. "But if you bring it in, nothing I can do about it."

Sarah and Harry's eyes went wide with surprise, then Harry chuckled. "I'll take that under advisement for tomorrow," he said.

They quickly settled in to a pleasant routine of long daily beach walks with Thor, surprisingly good meals at their lodgings and at the local pub, and quiet evenings together in front of the fireplace, reading, talking, or just blinking into the flames. Harry was pleased to see that, after only a few days, Sarah's color was better and her eyes were brighter than they had been since this whole nightmare had begun.

"When are you going back to work?" she asked one day as they walked on the beach.

"Mmm." Harry made a non-commital, thoughtful noise. "Soon. Probably. Why?"

"Don't want you to lose your job over me."

"Don't worry about it," he said. They walked in silence for a few steps. "I've actually been thinking about retiring." The words surprised him and yet rang true as he heard himself say them.

She stopped and looked at him, worry lines forming between her eyebrows. "Because of me?"

He wouldn't lie to her. "Partly." They walked on. "I never planned a career in the Navy," he said softly, as much to himself as to her. "I just wanted to be a...a country doctor. But the only way I could afford medical training was to sign up. The Navy paid for my training and expected six years of my life in return. I gave it to them and then...well...I don't know. I just kept on." He took Sarah's hand in his as they walked, side by side, across the sand. "I have enough years in. I could retire from the service and..." He looked over at her with a wry grin. "...be that country doctor I'd always planned to be."

"You'd be a good one," she said, looking down at the sand as they walked.

He waited, but she didn't add anything else. "How about you?"

"Hmm?" She made a questioning sound.

"What are you going to do?"

She blew out a puff of air. "I have no idea."

The next words out of his mouth surprised him even more than the ones about retirement had. Not because he hadn't thought them often enough. He just never dreamed he'd work up the nerve to say them. Out loud. To her.

"You could marry me."

She didn't react at first. Didn't look at him, didn't stop walking. When she finally did answer, her voice was low and full of misery. "Why would I do something that mean to someone who's been so kind to me?" she asked.

He stopped, and since he was still holding her hand, she stopped too. She finally looked up at him and answered the question in his eyes. "There's so little left of me, Harry. Sarah Jane is gone. I don't even know who I am anymore."

He took a long breath of salt air before he replied. "You could be Mrs. Harry Sullivan."

She shook her head. "You deserve better. A whole person. Not someone who's...broken."

"Why don't you let me decide that?" he asked softly, looking into her eyes.

After a moment, she turned away and started walking again. He stood still, shoulders sagging, and blew out a disappointed breath. Then he lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and started walking after her.

He caught up to her and they walked side by side for several minutes in silence.

"Okay," she said abruptly.

He frowned. "Okay what?"

She stopped and turned to look at him. "Okay I'll marry you."

He just stared at her, too surprised to react. "Really?" he finally said.

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

He gave a short, uncertain laugh. "For what?"

"I still think it's a terrible thing to do to you," she answered, wrinkling her face in concern. "I just don't know what else to do."


	27. Epilogue, Part 6

Harry pooched out his bottom lip and tipped his head to the side. "Not quite the romantic moment I'd pictured. But honest. Honest is good." His tone of voice was a tad less positive than his words.

Sarah's face fell. "Oh, Harry. I'm sorry. See? This is why you shouldn't marry me. I don't even know what to say to people anymore without it being the wrong thing."

"It's okay," he said, giving her an understanding smile. "It'll come back. Just needs time." He raised his eyebrows. "And practice. Care to give it another go?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

She took a deep breath and stared at him for a few moments. "Harry," she finally said, very carefully. "I have no idea how to be anyone's wife. Never have. But. Thank you for asking. And if you're willing to take a chance on me, I'd be honored to try to be yours."

He gave her a broad grin. "Unconventional. But much better." He put an arm around her shoulders and they started walking again. Then he stopped in his tracks, his eyes lighting. "I know what we need for a romantic moment." He laced his fingers through hers and grinned down at her. "Come on!"

They turned and headed back toward town. When they left the beach, Harry leashed Thor up and they walked down the main street of the little seaside village. They reached the door of the souvenirs-magazines-antiques-general whatsit shop and Harry opened it, gallantly bowing Sarah in ahead of him. She gave him a small "what are you on about?" frown, but preceded him into the store.

The proprietor, a wiry, grey-haired man who could have been a well-preserved sixty or a rough fifty, looked up at them over a pair of reading glasses that had slipped halfway down his nose as he entered figures in an old-fashioned accounts book. "Ah!" he said with satisfaction, taking the glasses off and pocketing them. "Customers!"

"Do you mind my friend here?" Harry asked, indicating Thor. "I can tie him up outside if you do."

"Oh, no, no, no," the man said, kneeling to the accompaniment of various creaks and pops from his knees and scritching Thor under the chin. "Can't do that to the lad. Someone might make off with a nice bloke like him." Thor lashed his thick tail back and forth with delight. After a moment, the man stood up, rubbed his hand on his trousers, and said, "How can I help you?"

"I noticed you had a jewelry counter one day when I was in," Harry said. "Wondered what you had in the way of rings."

"Rings, is it?" the man asked as he turned and led them to the far back corner of the shop. "Looking for a nice souvenir of your holiday?"

Harry smiled happily at Sarah. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of an engagement ring."

The man turned on his heel and gave them a closer look, then broke into a grin. "Oh, so that's how it is, then." He turned away again and went behind a glass counter. "Not sure I have anything that could be considered an engagement ring, in the conventional way of things, but let's see what I can find."

"This probably isn't going to be the most conventional of marriages," Harry said with a grin. "So that's alright. Besides," he added, turning to look at Sarah. "My first wife had to make do with a cigar band until I could replace it with the real thing. Whatever you have will be better than that."

"She cherished that cigar band," Sarah said.

Harry nodded. "I know she did," he said softly. He reached out and stroked her hair gently. "Let's find you something to cherish."

"It's a bit of a mish mosh," the owner said as he pulled out a tray of rings. "Things I've found at estate sales and auctions, mostly. Nothing new." He picked up a ring, the one that most nearly resembled a traditional diamond solitaire, and held it up for them to admire.

"What about that one?" Harry asked, the glint of green catching his eye.

"This one?" He put down the first-selected one and held up the one Harry indicated. It was a single diamond with two tiny emeralds flashing green fire from each side of it, all set in old gold. Harry took it from him and held it up next to Sarah's face. She looked at him questioningly.

"Just matches your eyes," he said, then held it down where she could examine it. "What do you think?"

She studied it for a moment, turning it so the stones caught the light, and came closer to smiling than she'd done in two months. That was all Harry needed to see. "We'll take it."

"How's the fit?" asked the owner.

Sarah started to put it on her finger, but Harry stopped her. "I believe that's my job," he said with a smile. He took the ring from her and gently slid it onto her finger. It went on as if it had been made for her.

"Do you do engraving?" Harry asked the proprietor.

"Yes, sir," he answered.

"Could you on this ring?"

Sarah took it off and handed it to him. He peered at it, turning it this way and that. "Dunno sir. It's a pretty narrow band. Maybe initials. Not much more."

"How about two words?" Harry patted his pockets, pulled out a scrap of paper, scanned the front of it, then turned it over and wrote briefly. He handed it to the owner.

The owner read the words, looked up at Harry and scratched his head. "I can try." He went back to a small bench behind the glass counter, screwed a jeweler's loupe into his eye, turned on a high-intensity lamp, then picked up a tool that looked like a pen but with a long cord coming out the top of it. He worked on the ring for a few minutes, then blew on it, rubbed the inside of it with a soft polishing cloth, and brought it back to the counter. "That what you had in mind, sir?" he asked as he handed it to Harry.

Harry read the engraved words with a smile, then handed it to Sarah. She looked at it for a long time, much longer than it could possibly take to read the two short words she saw there. When she finally looked up at Harry, her eyes were brimming with tears. She closed her fist around the ring, wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

He held her close, smiling over her shoulder at the owner, who raised his eyebrows. "Must have been the right two words," he said with a chuckle.

Harry nodded. After a minute, Sarah stepped back and wiped the tears from her eyes. She opened her hand and looked at the ring, lying on her palm. Harry picked it up and slipped it on her finger again with a smile, then put an arm around her shoulders. They proceeded to the front of the store to pay for their purchase.

Harry handed the owner a credit card, then leaned against the counter, waiting for the approval to come through. Before it did, though, he saw a sudden frown on the owner's face as he looked up.

"Sir! The lady!" he said urgently. Harry quickly turned and saw Sarah, leaning heavily on the counter, one hand pressed to her chest, her fingers splayed. Her eyes were wide and unfocussed, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Sarah! What...?" He stepped over to her as the owner quickly came out from behind the counter carrying a chair and placing it behind Sarah. She sank onto it gratefully.

Harry checked her pulse. "Your heart's racing. What happened?"

"Don't know," she said, her voice breathy. "Just...something."

"Does anything hurt?"

She shook her head and blew out a breath. Harry looked intently in her eyes while the owner hurried away, quickly returning with a glass of water, which he handed to Sarah, a frown of concern on his sharp features.

She took a sip of the water, then set the glass on the counter. "It's gone now."

Harry shook his head, baffled. "What's gone? What was it?"

Sarah shook her head too, but with frustration. "I don't know. It was just...." She blew out another breath. "Strange."

"No pain? Dizziness? Nausea?"

She shook her head at each question. "Just...a flash. Of...something."

The owner's face relaxed into a grin. "Oh, my wife gets those all the time. Nothing to worry about. Perfectly normal."

Harry and Sarah exchanged a look, and he had to laugh in spite of his concern. "It wasn't that sort of a flash, was it?" he asked with a smile. She shook her head emphatically. He felt her forehead and checked her pulse again. "Nearly back to normal," he said, relieved. "How do you feel?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Fine," she said. She raised her eyebrows. "More than a bit foolish."

"Maybe it was the excitement, miss," the owner suggested. "Not every day a lady gets engaged."

Sarah held her hand out and studied her new ring. "Yes," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe that's all it is."

"Let's get you home," Harry said, his eyes still worried.

"Home?" Sarah asked, surprised.

One corner of Harry's mouth curled up. "The B&B."

"It is starting to feel like home," she agreed, standing up and pushing her hair back off her face. "Speaking of which," she added with a slight frown. "Where are..." She hesitated. "Dr. and Mrs. Harry Sullivan going to live?"

He smiled. "That's something we need to discuss," he said. "Over dinner?" he suggested.

Harry finished paying for the ring and they left the shop with the owner's enthusiastic best wishes ushering them out the door. They picked up some takeaway and took it back to the B&B, where, as they ate, they decided Sarah's house suited them both better than Harry's flat. He'd moved out of the home he had shared with Marilyn after her death, finding it too full of memories. "The happy ones I can take with me," he had told Sarah at the time, when she questioned his decision. "The other ones I'd just as soon leave behind." The flat had been little more than a place to park Thor while he was at work, and to store his belongings, so the idea of giving it up and moving into Sarah's house wasn't a wrench at all.

"What about retiring and becoming a country doctor?" she asked, looking at her plate as she idly pushed the last bits of food around on it.

He sighed. "That one will take a lot more thought." He smiled. "And consultation with my wife. You don't make a life-changing decision like that unless you both agree."

She nodded, then looked up at him quickly. "Oh. Is that a wife lesson?"

He laughed. "If you want to look at it that way. Sure."

"Good," she said, wrinkling up her face. "I'm going to need a lot of them. I wonder if anyone's written a book on how to be a wife."

"I'm sure they have. Lots of them. Not sure you'd agree with them all, though."

"Marilyn was so good at it," Sarah said, looking down at the plate again.

"Yes she was," he agreed wholeheartedly. He gently took her chin in his hand and tipped her face up so she was looking at him. "But you will be every bit as wonderful a wife as she was, in your own way. Don't even think about comparing yourself to her. Okay?"

Sarah nodded seriously. "Okay," she agreed.

Suddenly her eyes went wide and out of focus. "Sarah?" he asked, moving closer and holding her arm, feeling her muscles trembling. "What...? Is it...?"

She nodded, her mouth hanging open. "Like in the shop," she gasped.

Harry was checking her over, pulse, dilation of her eyes, temperature, everything he could check without equipment. This time, the fit seemed to go on forever, but it was probably not even a minute before Sarah blinked several times, caught her breath and looked at him as if she'd just returned from far away.

"That's it. As soon as we get back to London, you're going in for a thorough medical exam," he said firmly.

She shook her head. "I don't think it's anything physical, Harry."

He frowned. "Then what?"

"I...don't know."

"It lasted longer this time."

She nodded. "Yes. I got...more of a feel for it."

"And?"

She took a deep breath and blew it out. "It was like...a door opening. Something...shining through. Something...." She broke off, closed her eyes, and shook her head.

Harry touched her cheek gently. "Was it something to do with...him, do you think?"

She bit her lip before answering. "It almost felt like it. But...not." She closed her eyes, and he watched her struggling to make sense of what she'd felt. "How could it be. When he's..." She looked away, her face working.

"You're still sure?" She nodded, and Harry's shoulders sagged. "I don't know," he said softly. "Maybe...when a Time Lord dies...his spirit moves on. After a period of time. Like a...I don't know. Maybe a purgatory of some sort. Then it goes to a Time Lord version of Valhalla or something."

She gave him a sorrowful look and shook her head slightly. "I don't think so."

"And then," he went on hopefully, ignoring her denial. "Then if he took part of someone with him--someone who's still alive--maybe that part of her will come back."

"Thought you didn't believe he really took part of me with him," she said softly.

"Well," Harry said. He studied her face for a long moment before continuing. "With him. You never know."

She gave him a small, sad half-smile at that. "No. You never did." She ran her fingers through her hair, her eyebrows furrowed with thought. "It was almost like...in my dream. But...he wasn't hidden anymore. That...opening. The door. Or whatever it was."

"I thought you said it wasn't him."

"It was...like him. The..oh, I don't know. The...essence of him. But not him." She rested her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands, lacing her fingers through her hair. "I don't know. But whatever it was, it's gone again."

He sat, rubbing her back, for a minute. "Maybe we should get you to bed," he finally said. She looked up at him and nodded, then stood.

They cleared away the takeaway containers and washed up. "You don't need to help," Harry told her firmly, but she insisted she was fine and did her part. Harry took Thor for a quick pre-bedtime constitutional, then they all headed up the stairs together.

Instead of turning in at the door to her room, Sarah led the way to Harry's. She pulled off her jumper and started to unbutton her trousers.

"Erm. Sarah," he said quickly. She looked up at him. "When I said 'get you to bed', I didn't mean..." He lifted his eyebrows instead of finishing the sentence.

"Oh. I know," she said, then went back to undoing her trouser buttons.

"Erm. Sarah." he said again. She looked up. "Erm." He compressed his lips and frowned--not at her, just in general. "You know I'm sort of an old fashioned chap. I, erm. Well. The honeymoon doesn't have to come before the wedding."

"Oh." She stopped undressing. "If you don't want to..."

"I..I..wasn't saying that. Exactly," he said. "I just...well. Don't want to take advantage. You've been through a lot. Don't want to rush you."

"Oh," she said again, then shrugged. "I just thought we might as well get it over with."

His face fell so hard it nearly crashed on the floor. She immediately looked contrite. "Oh, I've done it again, haven't I? That was a terrible thing to say."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well..."

"I just meant...well...it's bound to be awkward the first time. When we've known each other for so long. But not...in that way." Her eyes searched his face hopefully. "Don't you think?"

He looked at her, his lovely Sarah, standing there by his bed, and smiled. "I was thinking more....beautiful."

"Oh." she said, deflated. "Sorry." Frown lines appeared between her eyebrows as she mulled that over. Then she looked up at him. "Beautifully awkward?" she suggested.

He laughed. He couldn't help it. She was so adorable, trying so hard. "Awkwardly beautiful?" he countered with a warm smile. They looked at each other, dear friends through so many years, about to take the first step on the road to a new, life-long adventure together. After a moment, he took her in his arms. "Let's find out."

* * *

Some time later....

They lay on their backs, side by side, in Harry's bed, catching their breath. "Well?" he finally asked, turning his head to look at her. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Awkward or beautiful?"

She blew out an appreciative breath. "Not awkward. Definitely not awkward. Remarkably not awkward." She rolled up on her side and put a hand on his chest, running her fingers through his salt-and-pepper curls. "Why did we wait so long to do that?"

He laughed. "No idea. But at least we finally got around to it."

She nodded thoughtfully. "You know. I think I've found one aspect of myself where nothing's gone missing."

He laughed happily, then reached up and kissed her. "I certainly didn't notice anything out of order."

She kissed him back. Very thoroughly. Then, with a gasp, she sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes huge and staring.

"Oh God," Harry said, reaching out for her. "Not again."

She stared at him for a long moment, her mouth open, eyes wide. Then she smiled. A real smile. A real smile that grew into a huge grin. "He's back!"

"What?"

She nodded joyously. "He's back!" She pressed a hand to her chest and blew out several gasping breaths, never losing that brilliant smile. "I'm back!" she finally crowed. "Harry!" She looked at Harry as if seeing him for the first time, and the smile disappeared. "Oh. Harry." She grabbed for the sheet and pulled it up over herself.

"Bit late for that," he muttered.

She laughed. A soft, uncertain laugh, but a real laugh. "What _have _I been up to while I've been gone?" she asked.


	28. Epilogue, Part 7

"You don't remember?" Harry asked hesitantly.

She looked into his eyes for a second, then a blush crept up her neck. "Erm. Yes." She laughed a bit nervously, then raised her eyebrows and ducked her head. "How could I forget?" Her eyes went out of focus and her face went slack for a moment, then she blinked a few times and ran her fingers through her hair. "Just...taking a minute to put myself back together." She flattened her hands over her stomach and looked down at them. "Blimey, I'm starving. When did we last eat?" Before Harry could answer, she scowled, let the sheet drop, and looked down at herself. "Good God, I'm thin," she said, feeling her ribs. "What..." She broke off, her eyes going out of focus again. When they came back in focus, she slowly looked up at Harry, her mouth open, horrified wonder in her eyes. "Harry. Oh my God, Harry, what I put you through. What you did for me."

Harry opened his mouth to pish-tush what he'd done for her, but he never got the chance. She leaned over and kissed him silent, a soft, desperately tender kiss. "Oh, Harry," she said fervently, apologetically, when their lips finally parted. "I am so sorry. Thank you. For everything." He tried again to say something self-deprecating along the lines of "oh, it was nothing" or "the least I could do" but he left it too long again. Her lips were back on his and that was clearly more important than anything he might have had to say.

When they came up for air this time, Sarah glanced down between them and her eyebrows went up. "Oh, Harry," she said again, but this time there was no apology in her voice--just pleased surprise and admiration. She looked back up, into his eyes, with a smile that left him breathless. He could have managed to get some words out in the next few seconds then--if he could have thought of any. They all seemed to have deserted him, though. Fortunately, speech quickly became both impossible and entirely unnecessary.

* * *

Some time later...

They lay on their backs, side by side, catching their breath.

"Harry Sullivan," Sarah said decidedly. "You have the...enthusiasm of a much younger man."

He tried to suppress a smug smile and failed miserably. "I do, don't I?" She rolled her head to the side to look at him. His smile lost some of its smugness as he decided to come clean. "Could be a bit of TARDIS energy helping out."

Sarah's eyebrows shot up. "She's good for that?"

Harry shrugged. "I...erm...well...always felt more..." He searched for a polite word.

"Frisky?" she offered with a grin.

"Energized," he said, declining her suggestion. "When I spent some time on board that ship of his."

She suddenly gasped, rolled up on her elbow and stared at him with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked, almost beyond surprise at this point.

"Harry. If he survived...whatever it was. Maybe that means Martha did too." Her sudden smile was radiant.

He felt a laugh building in his chest, a laugh of hope and relief. "Oh, God, wouldn't that be wonderful."

Sarah nodded, closed her eyes and clasped her hands together in front of her in silent supplication. Then she opened her eyes and sighed. "I wish there were a way to find out." She thought for a second, then shook her head slightly. "We know she's okay now. But in her time..." She trailed off, then gave him a plucky smile. "We'll just have to hope for the best. Until he comes back and can tell us what happened."

Harry felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach at her last words, but he didn't have time to analyze it before she spoke again. "Oh, I really am famished now." She picked up Harry's wrist and turned it so she could see his watch. "Nothing's going to be open at this hour," she said with almost desperate disappointment. Then her eyes turned inward in that way that he was quickly coming to recognize meant she was putting another piece of herself back in place. "But..this is...we're in a B&B. Right?" He nodded and her face lighted up. "Let's raid the refrigerator."

He raised his eyebrows, widened his eyes and dropped his jaw. "You don't remember the owner?"

She checked in with herself quickly, then grinned. "You're not afraid of her, are you, sailor?" she challenged him with a grin. "We can take her!" She hopped out of bed, scooped Harry's shirt up off the floor, put it on, buttoned it and rolled up the sleeves, then picked his robe up off the back of the chair. "Come on!"

He just lay there and looked at her for a long moment, his body unwilling to move, his heart relishing the sparkle in her eye, the lively grin, the spirit that had been missing for so long. Then he dragged himself out of bed with a sigh. She held his robe up for him and he shrugged into it. She knotted the sash firmly around his waist, nodded toward the door, and, finger on lips, theatrically started tip-toeing in that direction.

Thor stirred in his kennel, and Harry turned to look at him. "You wait here, mister," he said softly. "And be quiet. Don't give us away." The Lab looked soulfully up at him and thumped his tail. Harry shook a finger in his direction. "Loose lips sink ships. Remember that." Then he turned and followed Sarah out the door, closing it silently behind him.

They crept down the stairs, flinching at every creak the old steps gave out, then listening and proceeding as all continued silent in the house. Once they made it to the ground floor, they padded silently down the hall to the kitchen. Sarah pulled the refrigerator door open and all but climbed in, as she eagerly checked what was on offer.

"Mmm, eggs," she said, her voice muffled by the fridge. "An omelet would be amazingly wonderful." She sighed and kept looking in the various covered containers and plates. "Don't suppose we could actually get away with cooking anything, though."

"Doubtful," Harry said, standing behind her and peering over her shoulder. "Better go with something we can eat cold."

"Here's some ham," she said, handing out a tray. He took it and set in on the table. "Cheese. Pickles. Mustard. Mmm, salad cream, even better," she said as she handed the items to him. "Now. Where's the bread?"

"In the breadbox. Where'd you think?" said a dry, crackly voice from behind them.

They froze, staring at each other wide-eyed, then turned to look at their hostess.

"Erm..." was all Harry could manage. Sarah pasted on her best ingratiating smile.

"Thought we'd established that breakfast is at seven," the old woman said as she limped into the kitchen and started putting everything back in the refrigerator.

Sarah moaned softly and pressed a hand to her stomach as she watched the food disappear.

Harry couldn't stand it. "Look, we'll pay. Whatever you want to charge for a...a midnight snack."

The old woman didn't even look up at him, just continued putting things into the refrigerator. "Past midnight. Well past."

"Fine, a three AM snack then. Call it whatever you like. We're hungry."

"Mmm," she said, stopping and fixing them with a sour look. "Heard you working up an appetite." She raised her eyebrows. "Twice."

Sarah's cheeks flushed and she crossed her arms. "Sorry we woke you," she said.

"Told you my rules about that sort of thing when you checked in," the woman went on. She turned and, leaning heavily on her cane, stared at Sarah. Piercing blue eyes moved from Sarah's face down to her left hand. "What's that?" she asked gruffly.

"Hmm?" Sarah asked, then followed the woman's line of sight and held up her hand. "You mean my ring?"

"Humph," the woman huffed. "That's new."

Sarah looked at the diamond, nestled between the two emeralds, and smiled. "Yes, it is," she agreed.

"Sarah agreed to marry me today," Harry said, draping an arm over her shoulders and smiling down at her.

"Did she," the woman said flatly. She looked from one of them to the other. "How many marriages between the two of you?"

Harry wasn't sure why he even answered the old woman's impertinent question, but he did. "One. My first wife died several years ago. And Sarah's never been married."

"Humph." The old woman's huff was softer this time, and her eyes were fixed on Sarah's. "Left that a bit late, didn't you?"

Sarah nodded. "Didn't want to rush into anything," she said with a wry grin.

"Humph," she sniffed again. Then her eyes softened marginally. "Well. Seems to have done you a power of good." The woman opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bowl of eggs. "Never saw you smile before today." She turned to look at Sarah. "What kind of omelet was it you were fancying?"

Sarah's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. Anything. Everything. I'm starving!"

"Mmm," the old woman said, putting a pan on the stove and cutting a good chunk of butter into it. "Been wanting to feed you up since you got here. You make me hurt to look at you, you're so thin. Twiggy'd look like a circus fat lady next to you. Back when she was Twiggy, that is." Sarah and Harry stood, listening to her rambling with bemused looks. She glanced up at them. "Sit."

They sat, and before long the kitchen was full of the delicious smell of eggs, ham and cheese being sauted in butter. Sarah widened her eyes at Harry and stuck a knuckle in her mouth, biting down on it. "I feel like Thor," she said, only half joking. "Am I drooling?"

Finally, the omelets were served up, browned perfectly and stuffed with good things. Sarah took a bite, closed her eyes and chewed with a look of pure bliss.

The old woman watched her, and her face softened. One corner of her mouth even turned up a little. "I'm going back to bed now," she said, her face reverting to its usual grim lines. "Everything had better be clean and back in its place next time I come in here." She turned and stalked out of the kitchen and down the hall without a backward glance.

"Thank you," Sarah called softly around a mouthful of omelet. A final "humph" reached their ears from the hallway and they looked at each other and dissolved in laughter.

They dug in to their 3 AM snack, but Harry was too busy smiling at the sight of Sarah eating with enthusiasm to do justice to his own omelet. His was only half gone when she cleaned her plate. She pushed it away with a sigh of satisfaction, then noticed his.

"You going to eat that?" she asked, eyebrows up.

He grinned and pushed the plate in her direction. She quickly polished off the rest of his omelet, then sank back in her chair. She closed her eyes, pressed a hand to her chest, and smiled happily. "He's alive," she said softly. "Thank God. He got out of it. Whatever it was." She turned bright eyes to Harry. "Harry, he's alive." Harry nodded. "And so am I, thanks to you," she added, reaching out and touching his cheek tenderly. "Thank you. Did I say thank you?"

He nodded again, and smiled. "You thanked me very thoroughly."

She gave a low chuckle and a becoming flush crept into her cheeks. "I did, didn't I," she said. She leaned over and kissed him on the jaw. "And I hope to go on thanking you for a very long time."

He smiled for a second, then sobered.

"What?" she asked.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again, shaking his head.

"Harry," she said, turning in her chair to face him directly, worry lines forming as she looked at him. "What is it?"

He looked away from her, then back. She was waiting, her eyes puzzled, encouraging him to speak.

"Well," he finally said, then stopped. She raised her eyebrows and leaned toward him. "His being alive. What does that mean for...us?"

Sarah sat back and blinked at him. "It means...our dear friend is alive." She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, eyes wide, as if to say "What else could it mean?"

"You two...became a bit more than friends, last visit," Harry said tentatively. "And you and I...became a bit more than friends. Today." He stopped, shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as she had done.

Sarah waited. "And?" she finally had to ask.

He sighed deeply. "Sarah," he said. He looked around the kitchen, trying to decide the best way to approach the subject that was lying in his stomach like a rock, trying to decide if he even wanted to approach it, now or ever. Finally, he looked at her. "Hon," he said softly. "I probably would never have asked you to marry me if I hadn't thought he was gone." He smiled ruefully. "Had just about worked myself up to it when he came back into your life. Thought I could, just maybe, compete with his memory, after he'd been gone thirty years."

"Harry," Sarah said in gentle protest.

He held up a hand to silence her. "Then he came back. This new him. And I watched you..." He broke off, looking down at his hands. "Well," he finally continued. "I knew." He gave her a crooked smile. "I knew better than to ask you to choose between us."

"Why would I have to choose?" she asked softly. "Why can't I love you both?"

He scanned her face intently. There was no teasing in her eyes, no smile on her lips. "Hon," he said gently. "You'd better...do whatever it is you do to get yourself back in synch."

Now she laughed. "What?"

"Well, that isn't something you'd need to have explained before."

Her eyes went out of focus and she appeared to be following his advice. So her next question took him by surprise.

"Harry. What if I were to say, yes, I'll marry you. But...you're going to have to get rid of Thor."

"What?" The word exploded out of him.

She nodded seriously.

He huffed out a short, incredulous breath. "Why?"

"Well," she said, drawing the word out. "You love him."

"Sarah," Harry said, as if talking to a child. "He's my dog."

"I know," she said, earnestly. "Those big brown eyes. Those floppy ears. That waggly tail." She sighed theatrically. "How could I possibly compete?"

He stared at her, and she stared back. After a minute, she raised her eyebrows and he twigged. At least he thought he did. "So. You're saying...the Doctor is a dog?"

Her lips curled in a slow smile. "He's a different species. And we...do different things together. LIke you and Thor. You don't show your affection for him the same way you do for me."

"I should hope not," Harry muttered.

"Aside from kissing, that is."

His eyebrows shot up. "I do not kiss the dog."

She chuckled at his emphatic denial. "Not when you think anyone's looking." Harry clamped his mouth shut. "Not that you usually kiss me on the nose. But if you did...it would be okay."

"Sarah. It's not the same." She just smiled at him. "Put the Doctor and Thor in a crowd of humans and which one would stand out as different?" he asked pointedly.

She nodded. "I know. I've made the same mistake. Many times. Forgetting he's not human. It's easy when he looks so much like one of us. Or rather....we look so much like Time Lords." Harry raised his eyebrows at that, and she grinned. "That's what he says, anyway. But..." She shook her head. "Never again. Not after bonding with him. I know who he is now." She smiled into Harry's eyes. "Harry. I would never ask you to get rid of Thor. Because..just asking would show I wasn't the woman you thought I was. And actually making you get rid of him?" She shook her head. "I know it would break your heart. I'd never do that to you." She gave a short laugh. "Even if I didn't like the big doofus." She grew thoughtful and went on. "Besides. If you did have to find Thor a new home, you could. Lots of people would love to have him. He'd have options." She looked into Harry's eyes. "The Doctor doesn't. He's the last of his kind. And, for whatever reason, I'm the only human he's found who can give him some relief from that terrible loneliness." She shook her head. "Oh, I don't pretend I'm unique. I'm sure, if I can do it, there are other humans who can. And I hope he finds some others. But...for right now...I'm all he's got." She searched Harry's face intently. "You're too kind a man to take that away from him."

Harry stared into her eyes for a long moment. "You have too high an opinion of me, Sarah Jane," he finally said. "I'm only human. A human male at that."

"I noticed," she said with a wry grin.

"And he still feels like the competition," he went on, ignoring her aside.

She got up and came to him, sitting on his lap, putting her arms around his neck and leaning her head against his cheek.

"Oh, now. That's not fair," he said, resisting, with difficulty, the urge to fold her in his arms.

She pulled her head back and smiled at him. "All's fair in love," she said, then snuggled in to him again. He admitted defeat, wrapped his arms around her, and held her close. They sat quietly together in each other's arms as the clock ticked loudly in the silence of the kitchen.

"You going to sleep?" he finally asked, since he felt on the verge himself.

"No. Thinking," she answered. She sighed. "So much has changed, Harry." She sat quietly for a long time. "Did you ever wonder," she finally said softly. "What I was writing about. All those hours in front of the computer. After you plunked me down and told me to write?"

He nodded.

"Why didn't you ask?"

"Figured you'd tell me if you wanted me to know."

She laughed ruefully. "Wouldn't have occurred to me. Not that me, anyway."

"It was making you better. That's all that mattered."

She nodded thoughtfully, then fell silent again. He waited. "I started writing about him. Of course," she finally said, sitting up so she could look at him. "Everything I could remember about him. About our time together. The years he was gone. Meeting him again. Bonding with him. How it felt." She closed her eyes. "How it felt to lose that bond. To lose...myself." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Then I started writing about what it was he had taken. What bits of me. And wondering why he took those and not others." She laughed softly. "My independence. Initiative. Empathy. Sense of adventure. Sense of humor.." She widened her eyes at that one, then wrinkled up her nose. "My taste for chocolate. That was a weird one."

Harry laughed softly. "That's the one that made me start to believe that he'd really taken a part of you."

"But he hadn't," she said quickly. "That's what I finally realized. He hadn't taken anything. I'd given it all to him. Everything I...valued..and liked about myself. I'd just..." She shook her head. "...thrown it at him as he left. And then...whatever it was that happened to him happened...and it was all gone." She laughed softly. "Nothing left of me but the bits I had no use for. Weak, dependent, passive, obedient. No initiative whatsoever." She rolled her eyes in disgust. "God. You had to tell me to eat. Why didn't you just have me sectioned?"

He reached up and smoothed the hair off her forehead. "Thought about it," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

She searched his eyes for a minute. "No you didn't. You never gave up on me." She hugged his neck and leaned into him, but not before he saw the tears welling up in her eyes. "I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die," she want on after a minute. "But you wouldn't let me. You kept poking me. Prodding me." She sat up again, wiping her eyes. "Harry. If you had asked me to marry you before. I would have said no. But it wouldn't have been because of him. Or because of you. It would have been because of me. Because I couldn't admit I needed someone in my life. I had to be totally self-sufficient."

"Why?" he asked gently.

"Because the people I needed most always disappeared. From my parents. To...him."

"Your parents died, hon."

She smiled crookedly. "I know. Now. But...Lavinia, bless her heart. She was a scientist to the core. It never occurred to her to explain to me that they hadn't abandoned me. That they'd had no choice in the matter." He took her hand in his, and she squeezed it gratefully. "She taught me to be self-sufficient. I learned that was how to please her." She compressed her lips and gave an emphatic nod. "So I got good at it."

"You certainly did," he agreed with a smile.

"I wrapped independence around me like a shell. And the poor little turtle inside never got to see the light of day. Until suddenly, the shell was gone, and that little naked turtle was on its own. Had to pick up its head and look around. And grow. Get stronger." She paused, looked down, closed her eyes, then opened them and looked at him. "Harry. That shell came back tonight. With everything else But...it doesn't fit anymore. Not the way it used to." She ran her fingers through her hair. "May take awhile to work out...where everything goes now."

"Maybe you'll have to let go of some of that independence. To get everything to fit," he suggested gently.

She nodded and looked up at him earnestly. "I think I already have." She looked down at the ring on her finger, then back up at Harry. "You still want to marry me?"

He raised his eyebrows. "You still want to marry me?"

"You don't want to just be...friends with benefits?" she suggested hopefully.

"You know me better than that."

She nodded. "I do," she said, ruefully.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" he said, grinning. "Just say it in front of a preacher like that."

She rolled her eyes at him, then sobered. "What about...him?"

Harry lost his grin too, and sighed. "I don't know."

"He's a part of me now, Harry. I can't change that. I don't want to change that." She raised her eyebrows. "You marry me, you marry him."

"Now there's a thought," he said dryly. "Do I have to propose to him too?"

She laughed. "No. I think he'll leave that decision up to me."

"You don't think he'd have a problem with..us?"

"I think he'll be thrilled," she answered. "He offered to take us on a honeymoon trip, remember?"

"Mmm," Harry said, thinking back. "That was before you two,,,bonded."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I don't think that changed anything. He still wants me to be happy. Doesn't want me to be alone. Any more than I want him to be." She smiled. "I was so thrilled when he turned up with Martha. God, I hope she's alright," she added fervently. She shook off her concern after a moment and looked up at him. "He needs someone to travel with. And I need someone to stay home with."

"And when he comes for visits? Then what?" Harry asked.

She sat silently, thinking that over, for a minute. "I don't know," she said finally. "We'll have to work that out when it happens." She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Can you live with that?"

He looked down at their hands for a long moment before answering. "Sarah Jane," he finally said, looking up at her. "I love you. And I'm glad you're back. And the rest...I'm going to have to sleep on."

She nodded. "That's fair. It's been a big day."

He looked around the kitchen, then at the clock. "We'd better get this place cleaned up before you-know-who shows up and wants to start breakfast." She got off his lap and together they made the kitchen spic and span, everything in its place. Then, hand in hand, they walked down the hall and climbed the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, she flashed him a smile, dropped his hand and went into her room. He stood staring after her for a second, then sighed and turned to go into his room. Thor was standing in his kennel, wagging his tail ferociously from side to side. Harry leaned over and opened the door. "Better take you out now, mate," he said to his dog. "Because once I hit that bed, I'm not moving again for hours." He took Thor downstairs and outside to do what dogs do outside, then the two of them climbed the stairs again and headed for his room.

He stopped in the doorway and a big smile spread across his face.

"Where'd you go?" Sarah asked. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, brushing her hair. "Oh. Thor," she said, as the big lab ran up to her and leaned against her legs. She rubbed his ears and he moaned with pleasure.

"I thought you were..." he said, nodding toward the door, then broke off.

"Hmm?" She looked at him questioningly. "Oh. Just had to get my toothbrush. And pyjamas." Her face fell. "It's okay, isn't it? I mean. If you don't want to..."

He smiled. "It's okay. It's more than okay." He let Thor get a drink of water while he changed into his pyjamas and got ready for bed. Then he put Thor back in his kennel and slid under the covers, where she was already waiting. They wrapped their arms around each other.

"I could definitely get used to this," she said quietly, her eyes closed, drifting into sleep.

"I already am," he said. His eyes closed, but the smile stayed on his lips long after sleep had claimed him.

THE END

(Bet you'd about given up on ever seeing those two words again!)

Stay tuned for a teaser for the next episode--coming soon!


	29. Teaser for Next Story

**TEASER FOR NEXT STORY**

A whoosh. A groan. A gust of wind that set papers flying about the room. A flashing light. A blue police box that was there...wasn't there...was there...wasn't there....then was there.

The TARDIS materialized in its favorite spot in the corner of Sarah Jane Smith's living room.

Before the last of the papers had settled to the floor, a cacophony of barking erupted. A black Labrador Retriever skidded into the room at full pelt and flung himself on the blue box, while a smaller, silvery robot with dog-like ears and tail wheeled in hot on his heels. The lab bounced off the TARDIS, spun, and launched himself at its doors again, while the robotic dog, not built for leaping, zoomed around in figure eights, barking frenetically in a voice startlingly like his organic companion.

The TARDIS doors opened an inch, then slammed shut.

"Doctor. You've landed us in someone's living room."

"Told you. Wanted you to meet a friend of mine." The Doctor didn't look up from the console as he answered, making some last minute adjustments--setting the parking brake, as it were.

"Is your friend large, loud, black and furry? With very big teeth?"

He looked up at that and frowned. "Donna, what are you on about?"

His companion didn't answer, just gave a sharp nod towards the door. He strode down the ramp and boldly threw open both doors as she stood off to the side.

"Thor!" the Doctor cried joyously. The big dog went into new raptures and threw himself, tongue-first, at the Doctor's face. Unfortunately, the Doctor was just a few inches too tall for him. Instead of hooking his paws over the Time Lord's shoulders and washing his face, his paws beat a tattoo on the Doctor's chest as he bounced up and down excitedly on his hind legs.

"Ooooh, alright, big fella," the Doctor cooed, bending over so Thor could enthusiastically scrub his face with his tongue.

"Oh, that is disgusting," Donna said, edging out of the TARDIS and wrinkling up her face.

"Why? It's how his species shows affection," the Doctor said. Then he made a spitting noise. "Not in the mouth, Thor," he said to the dog.

Thor dropped to all fours, tongue lolling halfway to the ground, tail thrashing madly.

"And K-9!" the Doctor crowed happily at the robot as he pulled a large white handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his face. "How are you, K-9?"

K-9 barked in Thor's voice.

"Are you talking to the hoover?" Donna asked, incredulously.

"That's not a hoover, it's Sarah's dog." His eyes brightened and he grinned. "Although that's a brilliant idea for an upgrade. Next time I get a chance to work on him."

"What in the name of sense are you dogs..." Harry Sullivan strode into the living room, a towel wrapped around his hips, another in his hand rubbing his damp curls. He stopped in mid stride and mid sentence, staring in astonishment at his unexpected guests. He quickly moved the second towel in front of his bare chest, but not before Donna had given him a very appreciative once-over. "Ah. Doctor," Harry said.

"Harry!" the Doctor said. He took in Harry's state of undress for a second. "Your flat being painted or something?"

"Ah. No." Harry glanced at the strange redhead who was giving him the eye, then back at the Doctor. "I live here now."

"I'm Donna Noble," that lady said, stepping forward with her hand outstretched. "Forgive him. He's a spaceman and doesn't understand the niceties of introducing people."

"Oh, sorry," the Doctor said quickly. "Donna Noble, Harry Sullivan. Harry, Donna."

"Erm," Harry said, looking at her hand and starting to reach out with the hand that still held the damp towel. He quickly realized his mistake, shifted the towel to his other hand, and shook Donna's hand. "I should get dressed. Make yourselves at home. The Doctor knows where everything is." He started to turn and leave the room, but then turned back, a serious look on his face, a muscle tightening in his jaw. "Martha?" he said hesitantly to the Doctor.

"What about her?" Donna asked before the Doctor could reply.

"Is she..." Harry couldn't finish the sentence, but the look on his face told them all they needed to know.

"She's fine," the Doctor said, a bit puzzled.

A huge relieved smile spread across Harry's face. "Thank God. We were so worried about her."

The Doctor's puzzled frown deepened, but Donna grinned. "She's more than fine," she said. "She's engaged."

Harry's smile grew even broader. "She is? How wonderful! So am I!"

"Oh," Donna said sourly, her face falling. "Figures."

"You are?" the Doctor asked Harry. "To whom?"

"Sarah Jane, of course," Harry answered. "Look, I have to get dressed. Be right back. Dogs, heel."

The dogs, living and mechanical, obediently fell in by his side and followed him out of the room.

The Doctor stood, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

"You okay?" Donna asked.

The Doctor's eyes snapped back to normal. "Ah. Yes. Fine. Just...well. Fine." He pooched out his lips. "Bit surprised. But fine. Come on. Let's put the kettle on."

Harry joined them in the kitchen before the kettle could whistle.

"Where _is _Sarah?" the Doctor asked as soon as he arrived.

"She had an appointment in the city," Harry said. "I dropped her off and told her I'd pick her up afterwards, but she said she'd take the bus." He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Should be here any time."

"Sarah's your fiancee?" Donna asked.

Harry nodded and smiled happily.

"And you two?" she asked, waving her finger at him and the Doctor. "How do you know each other?"

The Doctor and Harry looked at each other.

"I travelled with him. For awhile. A long time ago," Harry finally said.

"He and Sarah. We all travelled together. For awhile," the Doctor added. Then his eyes widened and went out of focus. Without a word, he jumped up and ran out of the kitchen.

"Now what?" Donna asked. Harry just threw up his hands and shrugged his shoulders.

"With him--could be anything. Come on!"

"You do know him," Donna said as she got up and ran after him to the front door.

The Doctor was standing six feet out from the door, eyes huge, arms out, his posture tense, looking for all the world like a bird dog scenting the wind. Then a huge, radiant smile burst onto his face, and he started running at full, long-legged pelt toward the road.

A small figure appeared in the road, running as fast as her much shorter legs would carry her toward the house. She glanced up, saw the Time Lord, and even at that distance, her smile beamed. She threw her handbag to the ground and put on a new burst of speed.

Sarah and the Doctor didn't slow down to avoid a collision. She just leaped into his arms, and he grabbed her and spun, dissipating their momentum in a dizzying whirl. Then he threw her up in the air, caught her by the waist as she came down, grinning up at her like a madman the whole time. She turned her face down to him and their lips met. He let her body slide down his to the point where their faces were on the same level, their lips never losing contact, their eyes closed.

"Erm," Donna said, watching from the doorway with Harry. "Is that your fiancee?"

"Mmm hmm," Harry assented, not looking at her.

"And...the two of them?" Donna asked, wiggling her finger at the Doctor and Sarah, still locked in a tight embrace.

Harry twisted his lips, started to say something, then blew out a puff of air instead. "Old friends," he finally answered.

* * *

STAY TUNED!


End file.
